


Hazard and Azpi

by lovinthelads



Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-03-13 16:25:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 36
Words: 49,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13574367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovinthelads/pseuds/lovinthelads
Summary: Cesar Azpilicueta is an MI5 agent tasked with locating international thief, Eden Hazard.  This time, it's personal.(concept borrowed from Janet Evanovich and Lee Goldberg's Fox and O'Hare series)





	1. I Miss Our Game

Cesar sat in his 5x5 cubicle at the MI5 headquarters in London and pondered the pile of empty Mars bar wrappers next to his keyboard. He’d made more headway on his sugar intake than he was ever going to make on this case.

“You’re here late.”

A face appeared over the cubicle wall and peered down at Cesar. Cesar glanced up into the cheeky grin of his cubicle neighbor, Cesc. “I have work to do.”

“You been charged with finding how many Mars bars a person can eat before going into a sugar coma?” Cesc wondered.

“Why are you still here?”

“I’m starting the background checks for the Royal Wedding.”

“That’s in May.”

“They can’t send out the invites until I get everyone cleared!” Cesc chirped happily. “You got any more Mars bars?”

“No,” Cesar lied even though there was a Costco pack of Mars bars in the bottom drawer of his desk. If he let Cesc have even one, they would be gone. Not that he was going to have many left with the way he was going through them. 

“No leads on Hazard?”

“No.” Cesar tried to keep the irritation out of his voice. He’d been after Eden Hazard, the international thief who was on Interpol’s top ten most wanted list, for nearly five years now, and he was no closer to catching the man today than he had been half a decade ago.

“Wanna sneak out for a cheeky Nandos?”

“It’s seven. We can leave if we want.”

“Well, I know,” Cesc said, his face dropping to a slight pout.

Cesar sighed. Cesc was the most annoying human on the planet and Cesar had the pleasure of sitting next to him. Cesc was too short to see over the cubicle wall, and had gone to Ikea for a step stool so he could see over to talk to his neighbors. 

And Cesc was actually rather nice, which made it impossible to tell him to fuck off when he bothered him.

“Cesar, my office.”

Cesc disappeared as their boss, Antonio Conte , popping an antacid into his mouth, passed by their cubicles. 

Cesar swept the pile of candy wrappers into the bin and followed Conte down the corridor. Crap. He wanted an update on Hazard. Cesar had nothing. They’d lost the wiley Belgian after an art heist in Munich, and all of Cesar’s digging hadn’t been able to find any trace for the last three months. They were going to have Cesar running background checks on the Royal Wedding with Cesc if he didn’t have anything to show here soon.

“Sit,” Conte ordered as he closed the door behind them and gestured to a chair. Cesar sat down. He’d learned to keep his mouth shut until spoken to.

“Can you explain this to me?” Conte asked as he slid an iPad across his deck at Cesar who picked it up with a frown. The photo was of a large bouquet of roses. 

“Roses?” Cesar said. “Lovely for your wife’s birthday?”

“Don’t be a wise ass, Azpilicueta. These were sent to the front desk this afternoon. The bomb squad dismantled them making sure they were safe, or that’s what they said. I think it’s one of their wife’s birthdays. Anyway this was the card that came with them.”

Cesar took the card he offered. “I miss our game, Agent Azpi. Love Eden.” Eyes wide, he looked back up at Conte. “What the…?”

“We were hoping you could answer that. Why is Hazard sending you flowers. What leads have you got on him?"

"Honestly," Cesar admitted with a sigh, "Nothing. We've worn out every possible lead. He's not popped up anywhere since Munich. I thought maybe that diamond that went missing in Tokyo might have his fingerprints on it, but they caught that guy."

Conte nodded. "Well, he must be up to something now. We tried to find out where the flowers came from, but there's no identification on the bouquet or card, and when we checked the tapes to see who had delivered them, there was no identification, there, either."

"You got a picture of the delivery boy?" Cesar asked. Conte swiped to the next image on the iPad. Cesar looked at the tall, slim man in jeans with a hat pulled down. "That's Hazard."

"Totally wrong build," Conte said. "That guy is close to six feet. Hazard is barely five seven."

Cesar shoved the iPad back with a self defeated sigh. "I'd recognize that booty anywhere. He's got lifts in those shoes."

Conte looked at it again with a frown. "You sure?"

"Positive. Hazard's in London."

"Why?"

Cesar’s brain was whirling. Maybe he was still in the area. “How long ago did these flowers arrive?”

“Couple hours ago?”

Cesar let out a groan. “He’s gone now. He could be in Paris.”

Conte sighed. “They didn’t even tell me until about twenty minutes ago.”

“Hazard has been running circles around this department for five years now. Every time we get close, every…” Cesar slammed his fist down on the desk.

“Well, he was here and he wants your attention.”

“Oh, he’s got it,” Cesar said. “But why does he want it?”

* * *

Eden Hazard walked into the impressive main hall of the Tate Modern on the south bank of the Thames, just across from St Paul's Cathedral. The Turbine Hall was closed for the installation of their latest modern installation, a series of blown glass pieces that would be hung from the cavernous ceiling.

With the confidence of a man in a well cut suit, Eden approached the museum official who was over-seeing the installation, Director Arsene Wenger.

When Eden approached, Mr. Wenger turned away from the crew and greeted him with a warm smile.

"Mr. Hazard," he said with a smile and reached out a hand. "We didn't expect to see you her today."

"My client has expressed some concerns about the installation," Eden said with an apologetic smile. He was posing at the agent for the artist, an old uni mate of his, Michy Batshuayi. Bats was indeed a talented artist, but didn't have an agent and had been happy to let Eden pose as his representative. 

"We're starting to hang the pieces tonight," Wender said, trying to control a note of alarm in his voice.

"Yes," Eden said as he watched the swarm of workmen un-crating the hundreds of glass pieces. "He's just not sure he likes how the morning light is going to react with the pieces at the west end."

Wenger's attempts at civility reached a breaking point. "He spent a week lying on the floor in here examining the light."

"That was January light. The February light can be tricky."

Wenger bit back a reply that the sun barely shone in London in February, but he'd spent too many years in the art world to start trying to argue with a temperamental artist. "The grand opening is Saturday. It's Tuesday. It's going to take three nights to get these all hung."

"I know," Eden said as he put an arm around Wenger's shoulders. "Look. He just wants to stop by in the morning. One last look before we proceed."

"I have twenty workmen I have to pay tonight. That I will have to pay overtime if I have to bring them back on Friday. Can we not start the East end installation and he can reconsider the west side tomorrow?"

"I'm not sure we're comfortable with that," Eden said. "I mean...I'd hate to have to pull the exhibit entirely..."

Fifteen minutes later, the workers were on their way home and Wenger was stomping angrily off to his office as Eden stood in the corner of the gallery.

"Yes. Yes. They've agreed. They're not happy...I know...I know..."

As Eden spoke in the unconnected phone, he glanced around the Turbine Hall. The workers were jovially taking off early on a paid holiday, and no one was paying any attention as he slipped into the employee break room.

An hour and a half later, in the darkened gallery, Eden, now dressed head to toe in the finest black thief-wear Armani had this season, approached a priceless work by Kandinsky, entitled, "Swinging". Eden had always like the painting since it had been on his high school calculus textbook, but that wasn't the reason he was taking it off the wall today.

The Tate's alarm system was fairly sophisticated, but had been shut off this evening in anticipation of the late night work installing the Batshuayi. As Eden had predicted, Wenger had been so angry at the delay, he'd forgotten to alert the security that the work was not happening tonight.

Which made it ridiculously east for Eden to pull the $50 million painting off the wall, break it out of it's frame, and roll it carefully into a tube he'd liberated from the gift shop, stocked for the prints sold there.

Eden carried the painting back to the Turbine Hall, tucked it in a crate underneath the glass piece labeled "West 10".

And then he walked out the front door.


	2. Are scones really pastry?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cesar has a lead

Cesar picked up a copy of The Metro on his way into the tube station, stuffing a bacon butty into his mouth as he passed through the ticket barrier. He’d been up all night checking goings on in and around London, looking for any clues as to what Hazard might be up to, but he’d drawn a total blank. He had a grande latte from Starbucks with a triple shot of espresso.

As he wedged on to the Piccadilly Line, he sipped his coffee and looked at front cover of The Metro.

And nearly spit latte all over the other people on the train.

“KANDINSKY STOLEN”

Pouring over the coffee splattered headlines, Cesar saw that the painting had been taken the night before from the Tate Modern. A quick look at Tube map and Cesar leapt off at the next platform to change trains.

 

For the longest next 20 minutes of his life, Cesar poured over the article. The interior cameras had been off for a new installation that was going in, but none of the exterior cameras caught anyone leaving with anything that could have been the painting. The only people who left the building were accounted for by the director.

By the time Cesar jogged off at the St. Paul's Cathedral station he had Conte on the line.

"Tate. Hazard. Who's on this job?"

"You think Hazard stole the Kandinsky?"

"How can you possibly think anything else!" Cesar demanded and knew he was getting a little over the top to be talking to his boss. But as he dodged two buses to get across Cannon Street, he knew in his gut this had Hazard written all over it.

"No, right, of course," Conte agreed. "I don't know who they sent out but I'll get you put in charge."

"Make it fast, I'm five minutes out."

Cesar had chosen the St. Paul's stop as it was downhill to the Thames and then just across the river to the Tate. He was barely winded as he approached the police lines in front of the main museum entrance. He flashed his badge at the copper who waved him in without taking much more than a glance at it.

Apparently the Southwark police didn't have a lot of concern for art theft.

As Cesar entered the museum and made his way to the Turbine Hall where a man lay on the floor surrounded by crates.

Cesar looked around. "Where is the uh..."

"Level two, gallery eleven."

Cesar started for the stairs and then he stopped. He turned back to look at the man on the floor, something niggling in the back of his head. 

"Have we met?" Cesar asked.

The man said up, pushing short braids out of his face. "Dunno, mate. Hey. What do you think of the light in here?"

Cesar slowly walked back over, looking up into the space. The man laid back down and Cesar laid next to him, gazing at the ceiling where the morning light was streaming in.

"It's good," Cesar tried.

"Do you think it's too blue?"

"Uhm...no. No I think it's really kind of yellow."

The man was silent for a long moment. "You're right."

He was?

The man sat up and pulled a book out of his back pocket. It was a well loved sketch pad, and when he opened it, he saw West 10 written on the page. 

The man looked around at the crates and located the one with the same label. "This one has to go."

"It...does?"

"It doesn't work with the light."

Cesar looked around again and saw a few of the crates were open with glass pieces inside. He assumed this crate had the same...but why...

And then he knew the man. Oxford University. Class of 2010. Sat next to one Eden Hazard in a candid shot from the yearbook. He didn't know the man's name, but he knew Hazard.

And Cesar was willing to bet his career that there was a Kandinsky in that box the man was now loading on to a dolly.

"Here, let me help you with that," Cesar offered as he reached for the far end of the sizable crate, and slipped a GPS chip under the lid. Conte through he was over zealous for keeping several of the tiny devices in the back of his mobile phone case.

"I think I can get it from here," the man said.

"I'm sorry, I didn't get your name," Cesar said as he stepped away. 

"Michy Batshuayi."

"You're the artist?"

"Yes."

"I'll have to come back and see it when it gets done."

* * * *

When Cesar never checked in with the MI5 agents already on the case and was ignoring his texts, Conte grabbed a taxi and made his way over to the gallery, wondering what was up.

He was, to say the least, slightly surprised to find Cesar in the cafe, enjoying a buttered scone and looking at his phone.

"Having a break, Agent Azpi?"

"Hey boss," Cesar said. "Scone? The currant ones are to die for."

"No I don't fucking want a scone," Conte snapped a bit too loudly, causing the the little old ladies at the next table to glare. He pulled up a chair. "Have we located the Kandinsky?"

"Yeah," Cesar said. He held out his phone which showed the GPS tracking app they used. "It's headed towards Stratford."

Conte blinked. "And the reason we're enjoying a pastry instead of going after it?"

"Are scones technically pastry? I mean, I think of pastry as light and flaky things. Like a croissant or baklava?"

Conte took a deep breath. "Azpilcueta."

Cesar smiled. "We don't want the painting without Hazard. We wait for it to land and then we go check it out."

"Do I want to know how you're so confident that it's going to land at Hazard? Or how you even located it?"

"Not yet," Cesar said. "But I am going to need a SWAT team."

Conte closed his eyes. "If you fuck this up I swear to god you're going to be doing background checks for the Royal Weddings until Georgie and Charlotte get married. Got me?"

Cesar smiled confidently even though his stomach churned slightly. He was 99% sure he was right...at least 95...

* * * *

Fifteen minutes later, the GPS had landed near Barkingside. Conte called up the SWAT team, and they caught a taxi to the location. On the half hour ride, Cesar kept an eye on the phone, but the crate didn't move.

I've fucking got you this time, Hazard, he told himself, knowing that the sly Belgian had outmaneuvered him before. Hadn't he cornered Hazard on the roof of a twenty story apartment complex in Chicago last year only to get to the roof and find Hazard lifting off in a helicopter.

Not this time. He wasn't even going to see him coming this time.

Cesar saw the van Batshuayi had loaded the crate into sitting outside the address on his GPS. Conte co-ordinated the SWAT as Cesar made his way into the building and examined the mailboxes for a clue. Batshuayi: 1003. 

A resident was on her way out, and a smile got Cesar in the door and he made his way to the lift.

If this was just Batshuayi's studio, there was a chance Hazard wasn't here. Maybe he would be by later to collect it.

Cesar texted Conte: Hold the SWAT. Confirming location

Conte: I know you want Hazard, but at the moment, we want that painting

Cesar ignored it. He was going to get Hazard.

He arrived at 1003 and knocked on door.

A moment later the door opened and Eden Hazard stood there. Cesar caught barely a glimpse of surprise on the usually impeccably calm face before a warm smile of greeting spread across. "Agent Azpi. So good of you to join me."

Stepping into the apartment which was clearly Batshuayi's studio, Cesar smiled back. "Well, I couldn't have you in town and not stop by to say hello. Your friend Batshuayi sends his best."

"Ah Bats," Eden said and led Cesar into the kitchen of the spacious flat. "Did he finally find the light he was looking for?"

"I think he did," Cesar agreed as he spied the crate near a door that must have led to the bathroom. "West 10 was giving him fits."

"It's a unique piece," Eden agreed. "Can I get you a coffee?"

"I'm good," Cesar said as he pulled up a bar stool at the kitchen's island and had a seat. "So what does bring you to London?"

"This and that," Eden said as he set the kettle on and spooned coffee beans into a grinder. His back was to Cesar and sliding his phone into his lap, Cesar sent Conte a text: Now

After the bean were ground, Eden spooned them into a French press. "I thought you'd all be busy over at MI5 with the Royal Wedding."

"We got time for other things," Cesar said and he caught himself looking Eden over a little too carefully. The cut of his tailored white Oxford showed off muscular shoulders and tapered at his waist and his legendary booty was shown off to perfection in a just snug pair of black Armani slacks. The man was hot...

The kettle boiled and Eden poured the water into the press, stirring the water and grounds before lowering the press to just above the grounds.

Both of them were stalling for time. Cesar's eyes darted around, trying to gauge any possible escape routes. The only doors in sight was the bathroom and the main door. Eden had gone out the window on him once from a higher floor than this, but there was no sign of a parachute this time.

"If you won't have a coffee, won't you at least have a chocolate? I feel like such a bad host," Eden turned away from his coffee and produced a box of truffles from Godiva.

Cesar's eyes widened. Were those double chocolate raspberry truffles? He could just go ahead and have...one...

Eden's eyes met Cesar's over the proffered candies. "I know how much you love sweet things, Azpi."

Cesar's mouth went dry and he reached for the box as the door blasted open and both he and Eden hit the deck.

SWAT officers swarmed into the place and both men were ordered to put their hands where they could be seen and not to move.

Cesar did as he was told, knowing protocol well enough to know that just just kept still until the area was secured and they'd worry about his identity later. He looked in front of his face to see the box of truffles had landed by his left hand. Damn he'd wanted one of those truffles.

"Stand down," Cesar heard Conte order as he pointed to Eden. "Cuff him. Agent Azpilcueta is with us."

Cesar stood, sadly leaving the truffles on the floor. Hazard might have been trying to poison him anyway.

But a voice in the back of his head told him that Eden wouldn’t do something like that. Sure, he was international thief who had made an ass out of him on more than one occasion but he wasn’t...a bad guy.

“Nice work, Agent Azpilcueta,” Conte slapped him on the back.

Cesar gave him a smile, but his eyes were on Hazard who was being yanked to his feet. Of course, he looked completely unflustered by this turn of events.

“You didn’t eat your truffles, Azpi,” he said as he glanced down at the remains of the Godiva box some careless SWAT officer had trod on.

“Where’s the painting?” Conte asked as he looked around.

Cesar crossed over to the crate, knowing that if there wasn’t a priceless Kandinsky in there, his ass was toast. Of course, they could probably still hold Eden on 101 other charges, but it would be a hell of a lot easier if the missing painting was on the premises.

Conte glanced at Eden. “Isn’t this where you deny that the crate belongs to you?”

“If I did that, it would mean that I knew something illegal was inside it, wouldn’t it?”

Cesar pressed his lips together as he took the crowbar one of the SWAT guys offered him. Do not laugh at the boss. Do. Not.

Prying open the crate, Cesar found a pile of packing material which he sorted through before finding the cardboard tube. 

“One Kandinsky.” 

“I don’t care for Kandinsky,” Eden said. “I’m much more into Picasso.”

“So why didn’t you steal the Picasso?” Cesar asked as he peered in the tube and then shook it out, carefully unrolling the corner to see it was indeed the missing Kandinsky.

“The Tate doesn’t have any nice ones,” Eden lamented.

“Take him away,” Conte ordered.

As the SWAT officers jerked Eden toward the door, he glanced over his shoulder and winked at Cesar.

“Don’t forget to come visit me, Agent Azpi.”


	3. He's Smarter Than We Are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They'd captured the infamous Eden Hazard. But can they make the charges stick?

Cesar peered through the two-way mirror at Eden sitting at a stainless steel table in a stainless steel chair, both bolted to the floor. His hands were cuffed behind him, and yet he still held himself with an air of dignity, as though this were a temporary situation that would shortly be rectified. He would tolerate their little game for now.

"You ready?" Conte asked.

Cesar nodded. They had boatloads of evidence from years of investigations, but what would really smooth things over would be some confessions and offers for restitution. Yes, Eden was a bad man and he'd give back some of those Picassos and pay the museums for their hardships in exchange for a lighter sentence. As it was Eden was looking to spend the rest of his life behind bars if they could make all the charges stick.

"He's wiley and I'm certain will have an expensive lawyer," Conte coached. "So we need to get him to talk without the lawyer and take a plea. If this goes to trial we might lose him."

Cesar looked incredulous. "He's committed dozens of crimes over the past decade. How could he possibly walk?"

"Because he's Eden Hazard. And he's smarter than we are."

Cesar didn't take it as an insult as it wasn't intended to be one. Sure, Cesar had gotten one over on Hazard this time, but it was one out of a dozen. Even at random chance those weren't the best results. Even a monkey could eventually type out some Shakespeare.

Cesar carried a small stack of file folders with him into the interrogation room. He was followed by a uniformed guard who unlocked Eden's handcuffs

"Good afternoon, Mr. Hazard," Cesar greeted him formally. "Did you need something to drink?"

"I could use a nice mug of Kona coffee with a touch of fresh milk," Eden deadpanned as he rubbed his wrists to restore the circulation. "You did let mine go cold.

"I can get you a mug of instant with some of that creamer powder," Cesar offered.

Eden didn't respond to that. Instant coffee didn't even deserve to be called coffee. 

"The Tate is very grateful to have it's Kandinsky back," Cesar began. "The fact that it was well cared for makes Mr. Wenger reluctant to press charges in the matter."

"I'm sure the thief will be relieved to know that," Eden said, his clear blue eyes steady on Cesar's own. “It's always good when you can recover the goods."

Cesar met the gaze. "We found you in possession of the painting."

"You found me visiting a friend's flat who just happened to have said painting on the premises."

"You signed for the delivery."

"I never opened it. As a matter of fact, you can't find my prints anywhere on that crate because I didn't touch it."

"So you're going to let Batshuayi take the fall."

"He had no idea the painting was in the crate. He thought he was sending back a piece of his own work."

Cesar's mind whirled around this fact. He'd seen Batshuayi load the crate into the delivery van himself. It had never been opened.

"You were at the museum yesterday and were seen leaving late."

"I was there as an agent of my friend and left late because I had to take a call from another client. I hadn't realized everyone else had left until after I finished the call." Eden leaned forward as he said this, setting his elbows on the table.

"We can check your phone records."

"I'm sure you can."

There was a long moment. Eden's demeanor changed as and he smiled and leaned back in his chair.

Cesar opened the file folder on the table in front of him. "You're good at what you do."

"I try," Eden said, the smile still playing on his lips.

"Munich. Chicago '17. Sao Paulo '15. Oh, and Paris '14."

"Yes?" Eden made no reaction to the place names and dates.

"Now, Paris, we don't really have much to go on, but it did have all the hallmarks of your work."

"My work as an artist's agent?" Eden asked with a quizzical frown. "I don't think I was in Paris in '14. Well, not working. I go to Paris all the time. Have you been to Laudree?"

Cesar looked up from the paper that had nothing to do with Eden's record. "Laundry?"

Eden grinned. "Laudree. It's a bakery on the Champs Elysee. Their macarons are to die for." He tipped his head to the side. "But you're more into chocolate, aren't you? I might take you to Rausch Schokoladenhaus in Berlin. It's off the Gendarmenmarkt Square. You wouldn't think it, but the Germans make some fine chocolates."

Cesar could feel his mouth water at the mention of chocolates. But how had Eden even know how much he loved chocolate?

Eden leaned forward again, his voice barely above a whisper. "You think you're the only one who's done his research, Azpi?"

Cesar slammed the folder closed. "We have more than enough on you to send you away for the rest of your life. You can either cooperate and make this easy on yourself or you can get clever and cost yourself your freedom."

"Under your skin, am I?"

Cesar pushed back from the table so hard he nearly tripped over the chair. "You might want to call a lawyer."

"Does an innocent man need a lawyer?" Eden asked, batting his eyelashes.

"Yes. And a guilty one even more so."

* * * *

Conte found Cesar with his head down on his desk, an empty Snickers bar wrapper by his face. 

"There's a reason it's taken us ten years to get him," Conte said as he picked up the wrapper and dropped it into the trash bin.

"I let him make a fool out of me in there," Cesar lamented even more than the fact that Cesc had found his Mars bar stash and he'd been forced to the snack machine for the Snickers.

"He's the master manipulator. He walked into a museum in Istanbul and talked the curator into giving him one of the paintings off the wall. He's smooth, he's charming, and he's the best con man on the planet. You were never getting anything out of him."

Cesar lifted his head. "Then why did you send me in there?"

"We wanted to see what you could get out of him."

"Uh, nothing?"

"Everything," Conte nodded. "I'm giving this over to the Crown Prosecution Service. We have him against a wall and he knows it."

"Wait...you're taking me off this case?"

"Your part is done," Conte said. "You nailed him. Good work."

"But..." Cesar began to protest, but at that moment, Cesc popped up from behind his cubicle wall.

"Hey partner! I got us more supplies," Cesc set a case of Mars bars on the edge of the wall.

Cesar frowned.

Conte looked apologetic. "Cesc needs some help with the Royal Wedding background checks."

Conte disappeared as Cesc peeled back the plastic on the candy. "I ate yours. I didn't have breakfast. But I ordered some off Amazon. They deliver in an hour. We'll never run out." He held one out to Cesar with a hopeful look.

Cesar took it. "So where are we on the background checks?"

"I got the catering firm done," Cesc said and disappeared again, taking the box with him. He reappeared a few minutes later with a file and the box. "You want to start on florists?"

"Lovely," Cesar said as he stuffed half the bar in his mouth.

* * * *

John Terry had been working for GEOAmey for nearly ten years now after retiring from the RAF. The company specialized in prisoner transport and in ten years, JT had yet to have a criminal get away from him. 

So when he got a special memo warning him about his prisoner for today, the diminutive Eden Hazard, was to be regarded as an extreme flight risk and was not, under any circumstances to be trusted or left on his own, JT had actually rolled his eyes.

He could take this kid out with his hands tied behind his back even if he wasn't restrained with leg irons.

But he sat in the back of the transport van with Hazard as they drove from the detention center to the Crown Court where Hazard was to be formally charged and a court date set. They'd be there for all of an hour and then JT could get off early to go to dinner with his husband, Frank. He kept an eye on Hazard who looked to be in some discomfort.

"Oi, sit up straight," JT barked as Eden leaned forward his handcuffed arms behind him.

"My stomach...hurts..."

"Well suck it up, Princess. We're nearly at the court."

"I need...the bathroom," Eden said with a small gasp of pain.

"You can wait," JT said. Honestly. Did they not take prisoners to the bathroom before they sent them to court? It was worse than looking after a toddler sometimes.

"Please...." Eden whined.

The van pulled up to the Crown Court building and JT got up. The back doors opened and he jumped down. "Princess here needs the loo."

His partner, Riccy, eyed the man clearly in distress. "Come on. The toilets are just inside the corridor."

Eden was unshackled from the van and re-shackled to JT. Eden tried to double over again, but JT yanked him back vertical. Riccy escorted them into the building and pointed to the toilets on the left.

JT walked Eden into the bathroom and un-cuffed himself from the prisoner and released Eden's right hand.

"You're not going to unshackle my legs?" Eden complained.

"Are you kidding me?" JT said as he pushed Eden toward the stall on the left. The one on the right side was out of order. 

Eden disappeared inside and a few moments later, there was a string of gastrointestinal noises that made JT cringe. Not long after, the smell reached JT who nearly gagged.

He glanced around the room. There was no window. Hazard wasn't going anywhere outside of this room.

JT ducked outside.

"Everything okay?" Riccy asked, but when the smell reached him, he covered his nose. "Jesus Christ."

JT closed the door on the noise and smell. "What the hell are they feeding them at Pentonville?"

After several minutes, JT glanced at his watch. "We're due in court."

"Check on him," Riccy gestured.

Reluctantly, JT returned to the bathroom. The smell had receded somewhat.

"Hey," he said as he banged on the door. "We got court."

But as the door swung open, it revealed a pile of cuffs and irons and no Eden.

"What the fuck," JT shouted as he picked up an iPod off the back of the toilet where it sat next to an aerosol can of fart spray. Upon examination, he realized the wall behind the toilet was covered in a wallpaper that simply peeled away at the edge, revealing an opening to the a cupboard next door.

They searched the closet top to bottom, but there was no sign of Hazard.

It was like he'd disappeared...


	4. You don't need a rocket launcher, Dad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cesar visits with his dad, Pepe Reina.

Cesar dragged his case across the rocky path that led to his father's oceanfront house on the coast of Portugal. Since retiring from the military five years ago, Pepe had been living in this house on his own, spending his days finishing at the beach, golfing with his buddies, or spending his afternoons at the golf club's bar. Cesar knew his ex-special forces dad was losing his mind.

He arrived at the house and knocked on the door. A few minutes later, the door opened and a surprised looking Pepe smiled and embraced his son.

"What brings you here!"

"Forced holiday," Cesar sighed despondently as Pepe took his case and led him across the tiled entryway. Pepe left the case in the hall and led Cesar to the kitchen. 

"I saw about Hazard," Pepe said with sympathy as he reached into the fridge for two beers and grabbed a bag of crisps off the counter. "I thought you'd be out looking for him?"

"I tried, but Conte said I was off the case and if I didn't want to get back to checking into the criminal records of the florists, I could take a vacation."

"Why the hell won't they let you in on this?"

"I'm too close to the case," Cesar said. 

"Fuck too close, you caught Hazard in the first place, why can't you have another crack at him?"

"I may have called the head of MI5 a fucking idiot for letting Hazard escape."

Pepe bit his lip, but he couldn't keep in a guffaw as he set the chips on the patio table out back of his house, popped the caps off the two bottles on the opener hanging on the wall, and offered his son a beer.

Cesar took a long pull on the beer and dropped into the wicker chair that he wasn't always sure was going to hold his weight. Pepe had bought the charming fixer-upper with aspirations of fixing it up. Cesar had accurately predicted that this wasn't going to happen. Pepe could make a bomb out of household chemicals, but he wasn't entirely sure which end of a hammer to hold.

"Conte managed to talk him out of firing me, but I've been placed on administrative leave which they're letting me take as paid vacation."

Pepe shook his head. "They're idiots."

"I did say," Cesar said and managed to crack a smile.

"So. Where is Hazard?"

Cesar blew out a breath. "I'm on administrative leave, Dad."

"Sure. Where's Hazard."

Cesar glanced at his dad. "In checking the flight and hotel records, I'm fairly certain he's holed up at a resort on Madeira."

"So this isn't a social call?"

Cesar shrugged. "I'm on administrative leave."

"Sure," Pepe agreed. "What's the plan?"

"He's at a very exclusive resort that you can't anywhere near without a reservation that you have to know someone who knows someone to even get. It's frequented by Hollywood A-listers and Cristiano Ronaldo."

"Well, it's a good thing I know Cristiano Ronaldo, then."

Cesar frowned at his dad who peeled open the bag of crisps and dove in for a handful. "You know Cristiano Ronaldo."

"Back when I was Special Forces I did a thing for him," Pepe waved a hand as though everyone did favors for world famous footballers every day. "Let me make a call. Who's he checked in as?"

"Sam Malone."

Pepe grinned. "Still using TV characters for his aliases?" Sam Malone was the name of the bartender from the long-running American comedy, Cheers.

"Apparently," Cesar said. "Sometimes I think he wants me to find him."

"He enjoys the chase," Pepe agreed. "He was too damn good at his game and he likes to play."

"Well, the game is up this time. When I bring him in, I'm not leaving his side until he's convicted and put behind bars for the rest of his life," Cesar grumbled. This wasn't supposed to be fun. This was fucking life. 

"Assuming you catch him again," Pepe said with a sly smile and Cesar glared.

"Oh, I'll catch him again," Cesar said as he realized he'd finished the beer. 

Pepe chuckled and handed his son the beer he’d not even had a drink of. "I'll give Cristiano a call."

* * * *

Not only did Cristiano get them a room at the resort, Pepe got him to loan them his private jet so that they could reach Madeira armed.

"We're maybe going to be there a couple of days," Cesar said as Pepe dragged a very large, seemingly heavy case toward the car they were taking to the airport. "What have you even got in there?"

Pepe waved away the driver and hefted the bag into the boot himself. "Supplies."

Cesar lowered his voice. "I thought we were bringing a couple of guns."

"We are. And some grenades. And a rocket launcher."

"A rocket launcher!" Cesar hissed. "What the..."

"You never know," Pepe insisted. "And it's for those things you can't imagine that we need them."

"Dad," Cesar said with a sigh. "I'm hoping for a painless extraction."

Pepe frowned. "I'm going to be disappointed if I can't use my rocket launcher."

"I'm sure you are."

* * * *

Ronaldo's plane took them to the Cristiano Ronaldo International Airport where no one even bothered to glance at their passports, let alone question what was in their cases. A black Mercedes picked them up and drove them north through Canical to a walled resort on a cliffside. The view was simply spectacular.

The pulled into the drive and Cesar made Pepe let the bellhop carry his case into the resort. Cesar sent Pepe to the desk to check them in while he took in the place. He was wearing a ball cap and dark sunglasses in an attempt to go unnoticed should Eden be making his way to the bar or the pool, but the lobby was quiet in the early afternoon. Maybe everyone was having a siesta.

Cesar followed Pepe and the bellhop to the elevator where they were taken to the top floor. "Mr. Ronaldo insisted that you have his suite," the bellhop said almost apologetically.

"I told them a basic room was fine," Pepe said, knowing the penthouse wasn't exactly the best place to go incognito.

"Why don't we just go knock on Hazard's door," Cesar grumbled. His initial plan had been to come in by boat and scale the cliff up to the resort.

In the palatial suite with an 180 degree view of the ocean. The doors to the deck had been left open and a warm sea breeze wafted in. Cesar saw that they'd been left a gift basket...of Godiva chocolates...

"Fuck," Cesar muttered as he went to investigate. Dark chocolate raspberry truffles.

Popping one in his mouth before they got trod on, Cesar wondered if Ronaldo has tipped off Hazard.

"How well do you know Ronaldo?” Cesar asked through the chocolate.

“I trust him,” Pepe said with a frown. “You don’t think he tipped off Hazard?”

“Someone did,” Cesar fumed as he went back for another chocolate.

“I still don’t think Cristiano would have told him,” Pepe asserted. Cristiano was one of the most honest people Pepe had ever known. He didn’t need to take advantage of people. 

“He didn’t have to tell me anything. I knew you’d come, Agent Azpi.”

As Cesar whirled around to see Eden appear through the patio door, his father already had his gun trained on the fugitive. 

“Stand down,” Cesar waved a hand at his father, but didn’t take his eyes off of Eden.

“Is this your dad?” Eden said with a wide smile despite the fact that Pepe was still glaring at him down the barrel of his glock. 

Cesar stepped between his father and Eden, “Dad.” Pepe lowered his gun but continued to glare. 

“I’m just here to talk, Dad. Promise,” Eden smiled and stepped into the room. “I see you found the chocolates. I was sad you didn’t get to eat the last ones. Those are your favorite.”

“What do you want, Hazard?”

“Well, it’s not actually me that wants something. Shall we take a walk?”

“Where?”

“Just down the hall. Dad will have to stay behind. Sorry.”

“No,” Pepe raised the gun again.

“It’s fine, Dad,” Cesar assured him. He’d been chasing Hazard for years. The man was a thief, but he wasn’t a killer. And he was desperately curious to know what was going on.

“You have your piece?” Pepe asked.

“Dad,” Cesar said shortly. Of course he had his gun.

Eden smiled as he stopped at the chocolate basket and plucked a truffle out of the open box. “These raspberry ones are good, but the salted caramel ones are my favorites.”

Cesar followed Eden to the hallway, knowing his dad would find a way to follow him. They’d barely arrived and already he’d located Hazard. Well, Hazard had located him. He’d not gotten a chance to even unpack his rocket launcher.

At the end of the corridor, Eden used a key card to open a door. They stepped in and sitting at a table near the window was literally the last person Eden had expected to see.

“Director Conte?” 

“I think you better have a seat, Azpilcueta. We need to have a talk.”


	5. I've never committed any crimes in Singapore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Conte has a proposal. Cesar needs a drink.

Cesar stood there for a long moment, gaping at his boss. "But...Hazard...you..."

"The hell with a seat, he needs a shot of Jack," Eden said with a smile as he crossed over to the bar. Dropping a couple of cubes in a tumbler, he splashed a healthy measure of whiskey in the glass.

Cesar managed to sit down and ignored the whiskey Eden offered him. Eden sat the glass next to him and went to take a seat across the room.

"First of all, the fact that you managed to track Hazard here in just over 24 hours after expressly being told not to pursue him should get you fired right now," Conte began and Cesar had the decency to blush.

"No one knows him better than me."

"This I know," Conte agreed. "Which is why you've been selected to take on this mission."

"Mission?" Cesar asked studiously avoiding looking at Eden who was sat behind Conte, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.

"Yes," Conte said. "Mr. Hazard is in possession of a number of very useful skills."

Cesar raised an eyebrow. "Lying thief? Is that a skill?"

"Agent Azpi, you wound me," Eden said, making a sad face. 

"I won't sugar coat it. Hazard is the best con man in the game. And he has connections in the underworld that we can't even pretend to touch."

"So...what are you suggesting?"

"What I'm suggesting is that you work undercover with Hazard as his partner. There are some bad guys out there that we can't get to. That the only way we could ever get to would be by...slightly less than legal means."

Realization dawned on Cesar. "You want me to work with Hazard to...illegally bring down criminals."

"Illegal. You say that like it's a bad word," Eden gave him a pout.

"It's a crime is what it is," Cesar shot back.

Conte held up a placating hand. "You and Hazard are going to team up to bring down some of the biggest sleazebags in the world. Drug dealers. Sex traffickers. Arms dealers. All of these people we've been after for years but haven't gotten close to because of international law and border restrictions. You and Hazard will be able to work with immunity."

"What's in this for him?" Cesar asked. 

"He avoids spending the rest of his life behind bars in every prison from here to Singapore."

Eden made a hurt face. "I've never committed any crimes in Singapore"

Conte and Cesar both gave him glares.

"Your job is going to be to keep an eye on him. On the record, you're still going to be pursuing him. Off the record, you will liaise between Hazard and MI5, and make sure he stays in line."

"I'm so looking forward to this, Agent Azpi," Eden said with a smile.

Cesar picked up the Jack and drained the glass. "I need a little while to think about this."

"Take some time," Conte allowed. "But not too much. We've got word of a possible plot of a terrorist attack on the Royal Wedding."

"You mean some of those florists might actually be a threat?"

"Quite frankly, we're more worried about the Kardashians that are rumored to be coming," Conte said.

"Kim or Khloe?" Eden asked, interested.

Cesar rolled his eyes as he headed for the door. He needed a fifth of Jack and a dozen more of those Godiva truffles.

"Say hi to Pepe for me," Eden said as Cesar departed.

It took all Cesar had not to flip him the bird.

* * * *

Cesar had walked into the room, emptied the mini bar, and lined the little bottled up on the table. He proceeded to fill Pepe in as he'd emptied a good half of them.

"So they want you to work with Hazard."

"Yes! Help him!"

"To bring down massive, international criminals that might be otherwise beyond your jurisdiction."

"Dad."

"I mean, it seems like a good gig."

"DAD."

"Son. You've got to look at the big picture."

"You mean the part where illegal stuff is wrong?"

"No," Pepe said as he sat across from Cesar and claimed one of the remaining bottles. "The part where you break a few laws in order to achieve the greater good. Do you think then I was deposing evil warlords what I was doing wasn't illegal?"

"Well," Cesar allowed. "But you worked for the army..."

"And you work for MI5. You would be doing this at the request of her Majesty."

"I'm not sure Liz is going to bail me out if I get busted."

"Nah, she so would. She's a decent dame."

Cesar looked at his father. "You know the queen."

"Like, not in the Biblical sense."

"DAD."

Pepe grinned. "You know you want to do it. Say yes."

Cesar emptied the last bottle. "I know I do. That's why this is making me crazy."


	6. You can call me Daddy, if you want

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cesar has a decision to make.

Cesar blinked into the bright morning light. He sniffed the air and detected a scent of breakfast.

"Dad?" Cesar asked as he focused on the table near the window which was heavily laden with breakfast foods. His stomach, remarkably undamaged from last night's binge, rumbled. A quick check revealed a dull ache in his head, but otherwise, he seemed to be unscathed.

"Well, you can call me Daddy if you want, but I didn't have you down as that kind of kinky," Eden said as he sauntered out of the bathroom.

"Where's Dad?" Cesar asked as he struggled to a sitting position.

"He went for a run," Eden said as he crossed to the breakfast table, trying not to look as the sheet fell away from Cesar's bare chest. How did a man who did nothing but eat chocolate have a chest that looked like that? "He thought we needed some time to get to know each other."

"I haven't decided if I'm taking the job."

"Of course you are," Eden dismissed him as he poured a cup of coffee in a delicate china cup. He added a dollop of cream, no sugar. Picking up the cup and saucer, he carried it over to Cesar in the bed.

Cesar took the cup even as he eyed Eden distrustfully. 

Eden ignored the look and went back to the table. "This is a really nice resort. I've stayed here several times."

"I've not seen much of it," Cesar admitted as he took an experimental sip of the coffee. The rich flavor exploded on his tongue. This was seriously good coffee.

"We'll have to go down to the pool after breakfast," Eden said as he began to fill a plate. "They even do poolside massages. I think you could use the stress relief, Azpi."

Cesar gave Eden another glare over his cup of coffee. That smug little grin he always had on his face. Like nothing ever bothered him. 

Cesar was about to refuse the breakfast, just to be spiteful, but then he watched Eden take a bite of what looked like the flakiest croissant ever made, and his stomach demanded that he stop being petulant and get it some breakfast.

He climbed out of the bed, wearing only his boxers and crossed over to the table. There were piles of fruit, an amazing variety of pastries, as well as cold meats and cheeses, smoked salmon, and...

A massive vat of Nutella. Cesar started to drool.

Eden watched the desire blossom on Cesar's face. If he got this excited over breakfast foods, what was the man like in bed?

Cesar piled a plate full of a little bit of everything, including two croissants smothered in Nutella.

"Where do you even put all that food?" Eden wondered as he worked on a plate of fruit and drank some black coffee.

Cesar glanced up at him, a smudge of Nutella on the side of his mouth. "What?"

Eden leaned forward to swipe at the Nutella. Cesar flinched back, but allowed Eden to wipe it off with his thumb. Eden pulled back, taking the thumb into his mouth and sucking on it just a little bit too long to be decent.

The thumb popped out of his mouth. "I can see why you like that so much," Eden said and licked his lips.

"I should...take a shower," Cesar said as he shot out of his chair, abandoning the rest of his breakfast and making for the bathroom, the rest of his croissant in hand.

Eden finished his coffee with a smile. Well, at least he'd have some fun doing this work for MI5.

To be completely honest, Eden was rather looking forward to the task. Of course, having to account for his comings and goings might get a little old, but the challenge of working with Cesar to maybe do a little good in the world was tempting. 

He’d been a criminal all of his adult life, but he’d spent a lot of time taking money off of criminals who were set on doing evil in the world. Swiping a Picasso from a notorious drug lord was dangerous, for sure, but who was he going to call to report it? And most of the people he’d taken things from were so embarrassed to have been swindled that they’d never even admit it.

A few minutes later, Cesar emerged, fully dressed, and without a word to Eden, escaped the room to find an armed guard outside. The man nodded once at Cesar and went back to standing and looking menacing.

"Uh, you know Hazard is more likely to go out the window than the door, right?"

"We have that covered too, sir," the man said in clipped, almost offended tones.

"Of course," Cesar said as he shuffled off to find Conte and his dad.

This was going to be the assignment from hell. He was going to have to work with that smug criminal. And likely do illegal things.

But it would be achieving things he’d been unable to achieve for years? Clean out those scum sex traffickers and other assorted scum that until now, he'd been helpless to do anything about.

And Eden was a brilliant man. If anyone could pull this off, it was him. Cesar was an excellent MI5 agent, but he had to face facts: he was too much by the books. If they were going to achieve this illegal...stuff, they'd need someone versed in how to behave...illegally.

And Eden was handsome. And charming. And...

"You're the only person I know who could be at a five star resort and look unhappy," Pepe commented as Cesar approached him poolside.

Cesar started out of his reverie and looked down at his dad, looking amazing for his age in a pair of board shorts. But the man next to him was an impressive shade of mahogany and wearing a pair of speedos.

"Cristiano, I'd like you to meet my son, Cesar," Pepe said and when the man lowered his sunglasses, he realized that yes, his dad really did know Cristiano Ronaldo.

"Pleasure to finally meet you," Cristiano said as he stood up to shake Cesar's hand. "Your dad has done me many favors."

Pepe waved it away. "It was nothing."

Cristiano shook his head. "Your father. So modest. I hope your room has been satisfactory? I did tell them to give you my usual suite."

"Are we taking your room?" Cesar asked.

"Yes, but I'm staying with family this weekend. I just stopped in to say hello to your father," Cristiano said. "I've been asking him to come here for years at my expense, but will he ever take a thank you?"

Cesar shook his head. "He loves his work."

Pepe grinned. "I do."

"I need to go check on my son," Cristiano said and Cesar spotted a curly haired little Cristiano-clone in the pool. “It was nice to meet, Cesar.”

Cesar dropped into the chaise that Cristiano have vacated and the coconut scent of tanning oil overwhelmed him for a moment.

“Did you have a nice breakfast? Or should I say brunch?” Pepe asked, wondering how his son was even still vertical after last night’s binge.

"You left me in the room with Hazard!" Cesar said.

"You need to get to know him!" Pepe dismissed. "He's a criminal, but he's not a bad guy."

"That's what criminals ARE," Cesar shot back. "Bad guys!"

Pepe waved a hand. "There's what's legal and what's right. The two aren't always the same."

Cesar sighed. "I'm doing this, aren't I?"

"You're the only one who doesn't know that," Pepe said and patted his hand. "But if you want to hold out for awhile, Cristiano offered to take us out on his yacht later."

Cesar shook his head. No. Once he'd made a decision, he always acted on it.

* * * *

"We've received intelligence that there is an anti-Royal hate group in Wales that is planning an attack on the wedding," Conte said as he, Eden, and Cesar sat at the table in his suite.

"Anti-Royal hate group," Eden repeated. "From Wales."

Conte shrugged. "The group is led by an extremist by the name of Craig Bellamy who once hit a man upside the head with a golf club. However, we're beginning to think that they're potentially being funded by Jose Maria Gutierrez, known as Guti, who's purpose for staging the attack on the wedding to be held at Windsor Castle is that he's going to use the chaos to steal the priceless art collection the Queen has there."

Eden raised an eyebrow. "That would be a great cover. They'd be so busy dealing with casualties, you could have the whole collection out of the country before anyone even stopped to notice it'd gone missing."

"Murder is always a good plan," Cesar snapped at him.

Eden shrugged. "You know that's not how I operate, but if you know anything about Guti you'd know that he doesn't put a whole lot of value in human life."

"Why does this require our help?" Cesar asked, wondering why MI5 couldn't take this on themselves.

“Guti has kept himself completely out of this, at least on paper. We don't have a shred of proof that he's behind it. We could nail Bellamy, but he’s small time.”

"You want us to infiltrate his organization so we can stop the attack but still catch Guti with his hand in the cookie jar," Eden summed up.

"Exactly."

"When can we start?"


	7. What are you in this for?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cesar takes Eden out for fish and chips.

Cesar was a little bit alarmed when Eden was allowed to leave Madeira without an armed escort. He was to make his own way back to London and he and Cesar would meet up in a few days to start planning.

"And how will I know where to meet him?" Cesar had asked Conte.

"He'll contact you."

"And if he doesn't?"

"Then he spends the rest of his life in a Turkish prison. They're still mad about some cons he pulled there."

Cesar had walked away at that point. It had taken him five years to catch Hazard and sure, we'll just trust him to turn up when he says he will.

Pepe tried to get Cesar to spend some more time in Madeira with him, but Cesar was on a flight that evening back to London. He knew he'd been meaning to spend more time with his dad, but at the moment, he had too much on his mind to deal with much pool lounging.

"You're back!" Cesc appeared nearly the moment Cesar sat down and booted up his computer.

"It would appear so, yes."

"I thought you were on holiday." Cesc said "holiday", making air quotes with his fingers. Did everyone in the office hear him call the boss an idiot?

"I went to Madeira with my dad. It was lovely. I'm back."

"You were gone three days."

"He doesn't get much time off."

"I thought your dad was retired."

Cesar chucked a Mars bar at Cesc's head. A hand appeared and snatched it out of the air.

"Thanks!"

Cesc disappeared and Cesar closed his eyes. 

About half an hour later, Cesc was back. "Hey. Did you finish the florists? I've found some irregularities with the wait staff. Windsor has their own staff, of course, but the Welsh company that they're hiring in has a few too many staff with criminal records."

"Welsh staff?" Cesar's head shot up.

"Yeah, like, didn't London have anyone? Why are you hiring a crew out of Cardiff? Anyway..."

"Maybe the Royal Family likes to spread the wealth amongst all the nations."

Cesc nodded. "Could be. But can you look at this?" he handed over a document. "I mean, I know we're supposed to be checking into this, but I feel like if we're actually going to question something, we better be damn sure, you know?"

"Yeah," Cesar agreed as he took the paper and handed over a Toblerone he'd gotten at Duty Free.

"SWEET," Cesc said and happily went away again.

There had to be something in this, Cesar pondered as he eyed the printouts Cesc had given him. Bellamy's name wasn't on the list, but surely he'd be using an alias, anyway.

Cesar's phone beeped. 

"I miss you Agent Azpi. Dinner at 8?"

Miss you like I miss my Biology A-Levels, Cesar thought to himself as he send back. "Sure." and a link to an address.

"Really?" Eden sent back, but Cesar ignored it. It was his favorite and he was tired of Eden calling the shots.

*

Which why when Cesar arrived at Fryer's Delight, he was annoyed to see a limo out front. The window rolled down. 

"Get in, I'm taking you to dinner."

Cesar walked into this favorite chip shop and walked to the counter.

"Cesar, the usual?" asked the man behind the counter.

"Make it two," Cesar said as he handed over a 20 pound note and took a seat at the booth in the back.

"Extra scraps?"

"Always!"

Fish was loaded in the fryer and one of the men behind the counter came over with two cans of coke and glasses. "Hot date?"

"Business," Cesar said as he glanced out the window. Oh well, if Eden never came in, he'd take his plate home for later. Or maybe eat it now. He'd always thought he could eat two plates...

The door opened.

Damn.

Eden walked in, wearing an Armani suit that had clearly been tailored just for him. There was no way that booty fit into off the rack. He was also carrying a bouquet of lilies and white roses.

"We're seriously eating here?" Eden asked and got glares from behind the counter.

"Yes," Cesar said. "When was the last time you had fish and chips?"

"When was the last time you had braised lamb and sauteed spinach?"

Cesar made a face. 

Eden sat down, laid the flowers on the table, and eyed the can of coke. “The Ivy has 2004 Dom Pérignon.”

"So. One of the guys in my office flagged up some of the caterers today as having criminal records. When I looked into it, they all used to work with Bellamy, and all have only been working for the catering firm since they were awarded the Royal Wedding gig," Cesar said as he poured his Coke into the glass and took a sip.

"Bellamy is working for the florist," Eden reported. 

"How did you...?"

"I stopped by earlier. He's working arranging bouquets at the moment, but he's set to work on the wedding."

"Bellamy, the Welsh Mobster who once hit a man in the head with a golf club is arranging flowers?"

"He's quite good, actually."

Cesar looked at the flowers. "He is."

The man behind the counter appeared with two steaming plates of fish and chips. Cesar noted that his plate had a considerably larger portion of chips. 

"Okay, so we know how the Welsh mob plans to infiltrate the wedding, what do we know about Guti?" Cesar asked as he dove into the scraps with his fingers.

Eden picked up a fork. "I've known Guti a long time. He's a godfather of the Spanish crime world."

"You worked with him in Turkey for awhile, didn't you?"

Eden shook his head. "I ran a counter con against him. I stole a priceless jeweled dagger from the Istanbul Archaeology Museum right from under his nose."

Cesar gaped at him. "You stole the Topkapi Emerald Dagger?"

"I gave it back," Eden shrugged. "Guti was going to sell it to a Chinese businessman and it'd never been seen again. I took it, alerted the authorities to the weaknesses in their security, and then I put it back...alerting them to the fact that their security was still not quite up to scratch." Eden swiped the vinegar and experimentally poured some on a few chips.

Cesar slid the salt across the table. He gazed at Eden for a long moment as Eden enjoyed the chips. "You're in this for the thrill, aren't you?"

Eden looked up, delicately wiping his lips with the paper napkin. "In what?"

"The con, the game, it's all for fun, isn't it?"

Eden shrugged. "I do enjoy the rush, but it's a challenge- the mental effort needed to plan and execute. It's stimulating."

"So why are you helping us?"

"I'm not sure I was given a choice," Eden said as his blue eyes met Cesar's.

"You could have gone to jail."

"Or I could still be in the game. And taking down people like Guti."

Cesar looked away, forking up a bite of fish. "So what do we need to do to take out Guti?"

"We're going to need a crew."

"I can get us some agents..."

"No," Eden shook his head. "I need a crew I can trust."

Cesar raised an eyebrow. "You don't trust my agents?"

Eden shrugged. "What is the main goal of your agents?"

"To bring the bad guys to justice."

"Exactly. Which means they're going to be focused on being righteous. I need a specialized crew who are focused on their work. Who are in it to complete the con, not serve justice."

"Isn't the point of this whole...thing?" Cesar gestured.

"Yes, but sometimes when you focus too hard on the goal, you miss the target."

Cesar gave Eden a look. He was right and Cesar hated it.

Eden licked his lips. "It's why it took you five years to catch me."

Cesar reached over and stole a chip from Eden. "I finally caught you."

"We don't have time for finally. We have two months to stop this thing, catch the bad guys, and save the crown."

"All for crown and country?"

"I'm Belgian."

"Your crown is related to ours."

"You're Spanish."

"Oh, we're surely related to them too," Cesar had a sparkle in his eye.

Eden smiled back. "I need to trust you, too."

Cesar looked at his chips for a moment. Could he do this? Could he trust this con man with not only the lives of the royal family, but his career...HIS life?

He looked back up at Eden. "What are you in this for?"

Eden met his eye. "I'm in this for myself."

"And what do you want?"

"You."


	8. This was perhaps not the right time to brag.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to start assembling the crew

Cesar’s brain shorted out with that word. 

A broad grin spread across Eden's face. "Wow. That look was worth getting caught."

"You...you want..."

"Calm down, Agent Azpi. I can be patient. I mean, the chase is half the fun, isn't it?"

Cesar stuffed fish into his face and willed his red face to stop blushing. He doesn't want you, he wants to unsettle you. He gets the upper hand if he's flirting and you react. You’re acting like a fifteen year old boy.

Taking a long drink of Coke, Cesar looked up. "So what kind of crew are you thinking that we need?"

Eden licked salt off his lips. “First, we need a wheelman.”

* * * *

David Luiz had loved to drive since he was five years old and had stolen his brother’s 4-Wheeler and taken it three towns over before he ran out of gas and had to walk home and admit what he’d done.

His parents hadn’t helped the situation at all, when they decided that their hyperactive little boy just needed something to work off all that energy and gotten him a dirtbike. 

He’d been arrested for reckless driving more times than he could count, never mind the auto theft charges, but when David saw some shiny piece of machinery that he’d never been behind the wheel of before, he just couldn’t help himself. Something deep inside of him took over and he was barrelling down the road before he even realized what he was doing.

Which was why he was sitting in the Oxford Metropolitan Police Station on a rainy March evening, under arrest for stealing a Ferrari out of the car park at Blenheim Palace and taking a joyride down the A44.

While his winning smile had gotten him nothing more than a slap on the wrist on more than one occasion, the officer who'd pulled him over was an angry, 50 year old constable by the name of Steve Bruce who didn't find David's drooping, wet curls nearly as adorable as the desk sergeant who'd checked him in. She had brought him tea and biscuits.

Bruce glared as he sat down across from David. "So, Luiz. it seems this is not your first offense."

David wiped crumbs off of his chin. "I didn't wreck the Ferrari. I can pay them back for the petrol."

Bruce glared. "This isn't about the petrol. This is about your habit of taking vehicles that don't belong to you. Last year, an Audi R8 you took from a car park in Manchester and drove to London."

"I did it in under 3 hours."

This was perhaps not the right time to brag.

The constable slapped another paper down. "The lorry full of veg you stole off a ferry in Liverpool."

David winced. He'd never driven that big of a lorry. He'd also forgotten to turn on the refrigeration unit and had arrived in Birmingham with a truck full of spoiled strawberries. It wasn’t his fault that it was the hottest July on record!

"And do I need to mention the bus full of Japanese tourists on their way to the Harry Potter Studio tour?"

"They really enjoyed the drive to Stonehenge."

Slam! "They were booked to go to Canterbury!"

There was a knock on the door. Annoyed, Bruce looked up. The desk sergeant peered in. "Mr. Luiz's solicitor is here."

David frowned. He didn't have a solicitor.

Bruce sighed. "Fine."

David looked up to see a man in a far nicer suit than any solicitor he ever could have afforded.

Eden Hazard reached out his hand. "My name is Alex P. Keaton. I represent Mr. Luiz. May I speak with my client?"

"Why not?" the constable ignored the hand pushed back from the table. "But he's not getting out of this. We caught him in the vehicle and we have CCTV of him breaking into it."

David winced, but Eden didn't even acknowledge the threat.

The door closed behind him and Alex sat.

"David Luiz of Fulham, London?"

"Uh...yeah. I can't really afford a solicitor...Mr...."

"Keaton. Actually, I’m here to offer you a job.”

“You’re...what?”

"You like to drive fast cars."

"Uh...yeah," David said sitting back with a wary look.

"I'm in need of a driver. This isn't really the place to discuss details, but if you're interested, we can find another place to have this discussion."

"Well, I'm currently here at her Majesty's pleasure and I could be detained for a bit."

"I can make this go away. All you have to do is agree to hear me out. If you decide not to take the job, you can go back to hot wiring sports cars and you won't hear from me again."

David shrugged. "Why not?"

* * * *

"You hired a person with a suspended driving license to be our wheelman," Cesar said as he watched David Luiz check out Eden's classic Jaguar.

"He got it for speeding. He's very capable."

"We can't be hiring criminals!" Cesar hissed even as David slid behind the wheel of Eden's car. They were at a house in Berkshire which Eden was staying at and decided would make a good base of operations. They'd already had one fight that day over who, exactly, owned the house.

"The owners spend the winter in the Canary Islands. They won't be back until after the wedding," Eden had assured him.

"Is that even your car?" Cesar wondered as David peeled out of the drive.

"He's a good driver," Eden deflected as the car careened onto the country lane, narrowly avoiding taking out the gnome garden at the gate. "And he's taking the job for 50 thousand pounds, doesn't mind there's danger involved and that if we get caught, we could all go to jail."

"Where the hell are you getting 50 grand to pay him!"

"Conte said we could dip into the funds the MI5 has confiscated from criminals over the year but isn't legally allowed to spend."

Cesar rubbed his forehead and wondered if the owners of this house had a wine cellar.

"Come on, we need to talk about the plan," Eden said as he led Cesar into the the well appointed pile. 

"Are we making a plan?" Cesar said.

"I've made a plan, yes," Eden said as he turned the kettle on and got three mugs out of the cupboard.

"Are we going to pretend at all like I'm in charge of this op or not?"

"We can pretend if it makes you feel better," Eden allowed as he took down a tin of Fortnum and Mason Royal Blend tea, a tea pot, and a tea strainer. "Does the big bad MI5 agent need to feel important?"

Cesar glared. "It's not about ego."

"It's always about ego. Why is Guti funding this con? Does he have something against the Royal Family? No, he doesn't give a crap about this wedding. But pulling a heist with literally the whole world watching? Yeah, he can trade off that the rest of his life."

"I've found out that Guti has been living in Cardiff," Cesar said as he pulled a file out of his briefcase.

"Who lives in Cardiff in the winter?" Eden made a face.

"Someone trying to recruit Welsh mobsters?"

Eden shrugged and went back to his tea making.

"According to our Cardiff office, he arrived back in the fall, and has been living in a high rise apartment building in town. They think he made contact with Bellamy through mutual friends in the Irish Mob."

"There you go. Everyone knows there are Irish Mafia. I'm still struggling with Welsh Mafia. The Welsh are too nice," Eden pondered.

Cesar ignored him. "Bellamy's group started to get regular donations in the five figure department from an anonymous donor about November. Bellamy moved to London in January where he and several others with connections to the group got jobs as florists. The catering firm is owned by a member and may have pulled some strings to get the wedding gig."

"Prince William," Eden said as the kettle boiled and he filled the teapot. "They live in Wales, don't they?"

"Yeah," Cesar looked through his files. 

"Go on," Eden said as he poured hot water out of the tea kettle and refilled it with more boiling water. He added two teaspoons of tea leaves and covered the pot.

"And...nothing. The Welsh office is convinced there's a connection, but damned if they can find it."

"This is the problem with following the law," Eden said as he went to the fridge for milk. "You have to have things on paper, recorded, and notarized. Me? I can just put 2 and 2 together and come up with a heist."

"What's your point?"

"Are you done feeling important and willing to listen to my plan?" Eden asked as he carried the tea tray into the sitting room.

Cesar sighed and closed his file. Dammit, he didn't want to let Eden be right.

"Can you get that?" Eden asked.

"Get..."

The doorbell rang.

Cesar expected to see David returned from his drive, but when he opened the door, he found a attractive man in his mid to late 30s wearing a tool belt.

"You called for a contractor to look at building you a new sunroom?" the man asked, looking at a clipboard in his hand.

"Did I?" Cesar asked as he peered over his shoulder at Eden.

"We did," Eden said as he poured the tea. "Do come in, Mr. Casillas."

The man looked wary as he followed Cesar to the sitting room. He awkwardly set his clipboard on the coffee table and took off his tool belt and laid it on the floor next to a flowered armchair.

“Cesar, this is Iker Casillas, he’s an excellent carpenter. Iker, this is Cesar Alvarez, my partner.”

“Nice to meet you,” Iker said, giving Cesar a look as if to say partner as in lover?

Cesar resisted the urge to correct him.

“Do you take milk and sugar, Mr. Casillas?” Eden asked as he expectantly looked up from the tray.

“Uh, yes,” Iker said. 

Eden made the tea for everyone while making small talk about the weather. Both a confused Iker and Cesar listened.

“Iker, we’ve got a job to offer you,” Eden said as he sipped his tea. 

“RIght. The sunroom.”

“No,” Eden said. “We don’t need a sunroom. Mr. Casillas, I wasn’t entirely honest with you over the phone. My name is Eden Hermans, and my partner and I run a top level security firm out of London.”

Ike set his tea down. “Okay.”

“We’ve been hired to investigate a plot against the Royal Wedding,” Eden explained. 

“Isn’t that a job for MI5?”

“We’re going to be working a bit more, shall we say, discreetly than the MI5 are able to,” Eden said. “You can understand, the Royal Family is...anxious to be sure that nothing gets disrupted at the wedding.”

Iker nodded. “Of course.”

Cesar had to hand it Eden. Iker was mesmerized and believing everything he said. The key to a good lie, Eden had explained to Cesar the other night as they went for ice cream after their fish and chips, was to stick as close to the truth as possible. Less to remember and always more believable. 

“What we need from you is to create a shop for us in the town of Windsor, near the palace where we will be posing as a wedding planning business. We’ll do flowers, catering, the works.”

“I can probably handle that,” Iker said as he picked up his tea. “I’m not entirely sure what those endeavors require, but it should be easy enough to sort out.”

“Good,” Eden said. “Now, we’re willing to pay you 50 grand for the job- that’s above and beyond all of the supplies, labor costs, etc.”

Iker nearly spit tea across the room.

Eden smiled, but Cesar cut across him. “What we’re doing here might be dangerous. We’re trying to stop a potential assassination attempt on the Royal Family. And, since we’re working outside the scope of the law enforcement agencies, if we get caught…”

Iker didn’t look put off. “I’m a good 20,000 behind on my mortgage. I got two kids growing out of their school uniforms faster than we can replace them. And well, if it’s for Queen and Country, count me in.”

“Welcome aboard, Iker.”


	9. What is he doing at PC World with a Cambridge degree?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plan begins to take shape

Eden was dressed in khakis and a pink polo shirt that said "Occasions" in purple embroidery on the breast. He had an iPad in his hand and he was overseeing the renovations to the storefront they'd leased in Windsor. Iker was directing a crew installing lighting.

Cesar walked in, carrying the pink polo in his hand. He looked at Eden in his shirt and sighed. "What is this?"

"Our Occasions uniforms!" Eden gushed. "Don't you LOVE?"

Cesar did not love.

Eden latched his arm through Cesar's. "Dahling, you simply have NO sense of style. This is why I'm the stylist and you're the caterer!" He laughed too loudly as he guided Cesar to the back of the space into an office that didn't have a door yet.

Cesar pulled away from him as they crossed the threshold. "Why do you sound like a camp Graham Norton?"

"For fuck's sake, Agent Azpi," Eden hissed. "Haven't you ever gone under cover?"

"We're doing that already?"

"The only person out there that doesn't know we're anything but wedding planners is Iker. We need to keep it that way."

"Do we have to be so...camp?"

"They expect it. The key to a good con is being exactly what you mark is expecting to see. The minute they start to think about you, you're done. They need to see an immaculately groomed gay man that just about makes them uncomfortable. It makes them feel manly and secure."

"I don't look good in pink," Cesar grumbled as he smoothed out the shirt that had become crumpled in his hand.

"Yes you do," Eden said as he held out his hand for the shirt. "You're putting this on. Take your shirt off."

"Now?"

"It's nothing I haven't seen before, love," Eden gave him a wink and Cesar started to sweat a little. He turned his back on Eden and pulled his navy  
jumper over his head. It was a bit of a chilly morning and he was a bit loathe to give it up to begin with.

Eden handed over the shirt and Cesar pulled it on quickly. As he straightened out the front, he felt Eden's hands smoothing down the back of his shirt. He turned too quickly and found himself nose to nose with the con man.

"You look amazing in pink," Eden said breathily.

Cesar stepped away. "I'm glad you think so. Are we hiring an IT guy today?"

"I've already found him."

"I thought we were doing interviews today."

"We are. But I've already picked a guy. His name is Fernando Torres and he works for PC World, but he's tired of working with the public and spending his afternoons explaining to nans how to work their email with his Cambridge degree in computer science."

"What is he doing at PC World with a Cambridge degree?"

"He had a slight problem with Interpol over some hacked accounts."

Cesar groaned. 

"He was just trying to get himself free wifi access at the airport,” Eden dismissed. “Do you know some airports charge up to twenty Euro for that?”

Eden smoothed the last of the wrinkles out of Cesar's pink shirt. "There. I told you you'd look good in pink."

Cesar looked down at it. Eden wore it better.

"Come on, we're meeting IT candidates at the coffee shop across the way."

Cesar's phone beeped. Glancing at it, he nodded. "Right, you're going to have to take care of pretending to interview IT people. The one piece I was waiting on came through. We're about to get Bellamy and Guti fired from their jobs on the Royal Wedding."

"Excellent. And we'll just happen to be available that weekend?" Eden said with a smile.

"Exactly."

* * *

Cesar walked into the office, intent on what he needed to get done.

"What the heck is Occasions?" Cesc asked as he peered down at Cesar in his pink polo shirt."

Cesar let out a groan. He'd meant to get changed before coming to the office. No, he'd meant to never put this stupid shirt on, but here he was. And when he thought about it, Eden still had his other shirt.

"Nothing," Cesar said. "I talked to Conte about the florists. He agrees that they need to be denied access to the wedding."

"Wait, what?" Cesc asked, and then disappeared from his perch.

A moment later, he appeared in person. "You can't make that decision. This is my case."

Cesar glanced at Cesc, but avoided prolonged eye contact. Maybe Cesc could be pawned off with a case of Mars bars. "I thought we were working this together."

"Even so, you can't go to Conte on this and make a unilateral decision." Cesc had pulled himself up to his full height and was glaring down at Cesar. "You can't just go over my head."

Cesar was forced to look up at him. Cesc wasn't wrong. Annoyingly so. "Look, I understand, but..."

"Don't you but me. I know you think I'm a lowly little toady who's biggest aspiration in life is to steal your candy bars, but this is my case and you can't just bust in here after losing your bit important case and think you can just take me over."

Cesc stomped away in the direction of Conte's office and Cesar swore under his breath. Was it going to be his job to piss off every single person today? Was he actually that incompetent?

No, Cesar thought as he rushed after Cesc. He was just arrogant in thinking he knew more than people who were good at their jobs.

He arrived at Conte's office only steps behind Cesc.

"Sir, can I have a word with you?" Cesc asked as he knocked and peered into the open door.

"Sure, Fabregas," Conte waved him in and looked up to see Cesar hovering. He frowned.

"Azpilicueta tells me we're denying the florists clearance for the wedding? When was this decided?"

"Well," Conte hedged. "Several of them turned up with criminal records."

"For misdemeanors. All of them at least three years old."

"One had an assault charge," Cesar chimed in.

"A five year old assault charge that was dismissed," Cesc cut across him. "This isn't a witch hunt. This is us securing the wedding. None of them people are a threat in my opinion."

"We certainly don't like to take chances," Conte said, though he was losing ground.

"They're florists."

"With criminal records."

"Have you talked to any of them?" Cesc asked. "Because I met with every single one of them. They'd become florists as a part of a criminal rehabilitation program. One sponsored by Prince William."

"Well," Cesar said. "I mean..."

Cesc threw up his hands. "Am I in charge of this operation or not?"

"You're running background checks on florists," Conte said and the slight condescension in his voice made Cesc's eyes narrow.

"Right. Of course," Cesc said as he turned to leave. "I'll go back to my menial tasks, then. But if the Crown calls, I am not taking responsibility for this."

Conte let Cesc go, but gave Cesar the full weight of his glare. "You need an ally in this office like Cesc."

"I know," Cesar said.

"You better go make this right with him."

"I will sir. I'm sorry, sir," Cesar said and made his escape. 

This was going to take more than a crate of Toblerones, Cesar lamented.

* * * *

"What do you mean they were fired?" Guti growled down the phone. First he'd gotten word today that the catering firm he'd placed men with had been bought out by a Belgian investor and now they were completely re-staffing, and now his florists were being denied wedding clearance?

"I mean we failed the MI5 background checks," Bellamy said on the phone. "I thought you had cleared all of that."

"I will deal with this," Guti cut the call off and tossed his phone down on the desk.


	10. You confuse me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nando orders some Nandos and Hazard and Azpi get confused.

Eden's phone rang with the call he'd been expecting. "Occasions- we have everything you need for your perfect wedding!"

"Can I speak with Eden Hermans, please?"

"You got him, love," Eden replied as he signaled across the office to Cesar who was sitting at a computer desk, looked at canapes. The first thing he'd had to google was "what IS a canape?" They were basically hors d'œuvre, right?

"Mr. Hermans, my name is Jose Gutierrez, I run a catering firm and I'd like to talk with you about working together on a big project I've got booked."

"I like what I hear," Eden simpered. "Guti" he mouthed at Cesar.

"Are you recording?" Cesar hissed.

Eden rolled his eyes. Of course they were recording.

"We've had our florist back out of a major event and we're less than two months out. Your firm does flowers for weddings?"

"Darling, we do everything for weddings," Eden said. "How big of an event are we talking?"

"Well, let's just say this is the wedding event of the year," Guti chuckled. "Can we schedule a meeting? Let you know what we're looking for and you can see if this is something you want to work on."

"It sounds amazing. Shall I come to you? Where are you located?"

"I'm in Cardiff, but I'll be in London at the end of the week."

"Perfect," Eden said and they set a time and place to meet. "I'll bring my assistant with me. He's in charge of our catering side, but if your project is as big as you say, we may need him."

"Of course," Guti said. "I look forward to meeting you."

As Eden hung up, he saw Cesar with a look on his face. "What?"

"Why did you insist on coming to Cardiff! We could have checked out his place?"

Eden sighed. "He doesn't trust us yet. We could go all the way to Cardiff to get to see the lovely Costa Coffee in the middle of town that looks exactly like all of the other Costas across the UK. Or, he could come here, we could see the Costa Coffee only half an hour away and then later, find a way to go to Cardiff."

Cesar's frown deepened.

"You hate it when I'm smarter than you," Eden blew him a kiss. "Go back to your canapes."

Cesar did go back to his canapes. He was fucking up every single part of this assignment. Cesc still wasn't answering his texts. Every time he turned around, Eden was showing him up. He was distracted and off his game. He was going to get someone killed if he didn't get his head on straight, possibly himself.

You know what's distracting you.

Cesar ignored the voice in the back of his head. Canapes. He needed to put together a catalog of canapes for the fake website Fernando was setting up for them. These smoked salmon thingys looked nice.

You can't ignore him.

Fernando had the basics down which was how Guti was able to find them, but they needed to add some more to it in case Guti decided to go deeper into the site. Fernando had created the site and broken into the Google algorithms so that when anyone in Wales Googled wedding florists, Occasions popped up first. He'd also wandered by Yelp and bashed any number of potential competitors under various aliases. Cesar had to admit, Fernando was good. Eden could certainly find the best.

Certainly not the only thing he's good at.

Canapes.

"Azpi."

Cesar looked up at Eden who was looking at him like it wasn't the first time he'd said his name.

"Yes?"

"Fernando is ordering in lunch, you want Nandos or Nam Kang- that Korean place around the corner?"

"Whichever," Cesar said, realizing that Fernando was standing next to Eden, looking at his omnipresent iPhone.

"You eat Korean?" Eden asked with a glint in his eye.

"Uh," Cesar said as he realized he'd never had Korean. Was it like Chinese? Japanese? 

Eden chuckled. "Nandos....Nando."

Fernando rolled his eyes and walked back to the office space he'd been using. 

Fifteen minutes later, a delivery person with three big bags from Nandos arrived. Eden took them and didn't pay.

Cesar frowned as Eden opened the first bag. "Did we pay for that?"

"I assume Fernando did."

"We had a gift card," Fernando said as he appeared at the smell of Peri Peri.

"An actual gift card?" Cesar pressed.

Fernando had a chip in his mouth and shrugged.

Cesar bit back the lecture about doing things legally. He had been doing intelligence work long enough to know that the biggest criminals were brought down on things like credit card fraud rather than the crimes they actually needed put away for.

Fernando disappeared into the office which he'd apparently decided was his own and Eden sat with a Portobello Mushroom with Halloumi Wrap and eyed Cesar who was digging into a lemon herb chicken breast. Cesar's eye was off the ball in this con, and it was dangerous for all of them.

One of the cardinal rules of a con was that everyone you had on your team had to be competent, trustworthy, and fully engaged. Azpi was two of the three, but Eden needed to find a way to get him engaged.

He wandered back to Fernando's office, and in a few whispered words, had he and Azpi booked for a tour or Windsor Palace that afternoon. Of course, with the royal wedding weeks away, the tours were booked up, but Fernando had a code for that, too.

He returned to the front room and got two cans of Coke out of the fridge. Carrying one over to Cesar, he took a seat in front of his desk.

"How's your peri-peri?"

"Good," Cesar said, eyeing the Coke and Eden.

"Don't worry, I had those delivered from Tesco. Paid for them with your credit card," Eden said, a twinkle in his eye.

"Did you get your canapes organized?"

"I'm still not entirely certain what a canape is," Cesar admitted. "They're like mini hors d'œuvre's but they're technically not but no one knows exactly what they actually are."

Eden grinned as he handed Cesar a napkin for his chin which had a dribble of sauce. "So we could sell people canapes and show up with some cheese on a cracker and no one would know better?"

"I think so," Cesar said with a smile.

"This wedding planning is dead easy," Eden replied. "Come on. I booked us on the 2 o'clock tour. I think we need to talk."

* * *

Eden's ability to blend into nearly any situation amazed Cesar as they departed the office for the tour. Gone was the pink polo, perfectly coiffed hair, and white slacks. He handed Cesar a "London" ball cap complete with a Union Jack and a hooded sweatshirt.

"Are we going as Americans?" Cesar wondered as he pulled on the cap and gazed at Eden's mom jeans and belt pack. He even had on white trainers.

"Australians," Eden said. "The accent is more believable."

"Maybe I better not talk," Cesar said, knowing his command of accents was lame at best.

They left the office and made their way the few blocks over to the palace where a group of tourists was forming at the gate.

"Selfie!" Eden said as he pulled out his phone and held it before them, Windsor in the background.

Cesar gave him a cheesy smile and Eden snapped the photo. 

"I know mum is going to love this," Eden gushed in a perfect Australian accent. "Is this where they'll arrive in the coach do you think???"

"Yes!" an American woman next to him spoke up. "The carriage will come up the road here and enter through these gates."

"SO exciting!" Eden squealed and threaded his arm through Cesar's. "I wish I could be there! Come on, Love, let's check in for the tour!"

Cesar tried to suppress a smile and failed. Eden just threw himself into all of his roles. He was wasted as a con-man. He could be an Oscar winning actor.

They found their tour and Cesar waited for Eden to buy a guidebook. Eden was certainly not the only royal enthusiast on the tour and by the time they arrive at St. George's Chapel, where the wedding would take place, he'd made friends with about half the tour group.

However, when the guide moved them toward the front of the quire, Eden pulled Cesar behind one of the pillars.

"What..." Cesar asked but Eden shushed him.

One of the ladies at the back of the group caught sight of them, but when she went to gesture them forward, Eden moved in and planted a kiss on Cesar's lips.

The woman let out a giggle and turned away, following the group out of the chapel.

Cesar was stunned when Eden kissed him, but the moment passed and he found himself gripping the front of Eden's Hard Rock Cafe t-shirt and pressing his body into the smaller man. Eden had grabbed his hips, and the kiss deepened.

After too long for the purpose Eden had started the kiss, Eden pulled away, flushed and breathing hard.

Cesar just stared at him for too long. Shit...he wasn't...he didn't...

Eden gave him a sly smile. "You do know how to distract a guy."

Cesar blushed.

Eden reached out and touched Cesar's cheek. "Stop trying to distract me, Agent Azpi."

Cesar looked away. "So what are we doing here?"

Eden checked that the coast was clear and went to sit in one of the chairs that had been set up in the nave. "I wanted you to see the church. I wanted us to think about what our goal is here and how to stop what's going to happen."

Cesar frowned, but took the seat next to Eden.

"Guti wants to get Bellamy to set up bombs in this church to set off during the Royal Wedding. His entire purpose is to distract us from the theft of the Queen's art collection in the Castle."

"I know this," Cesar said, but Eden cut him off.

"I know you know this. I want you to feel it," Eden said. "I want you to sit in this sacred house of God and think of the six hundred people who will be sitting here to celebrate love."

Cesar did for a long moment, and then turned to Eden. "Why?"

"Because you seem distracted. You seem to be caught up in the details. I want you to think about why we're doing this."

"I thought you were doing this to stay out of jail."

Eden shrugged and looked away. "That's why this started, but I wouldn't do this if I didn't believe in this. I'd sit in jail if I didn't think what I was doing was worthwhile."

"You confuse me," Cesar admitted.

"I know," Eden said with a wry smile. "The feeling is mutual."


	11. It's a skinny and I skipped breakfast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guti is impressed and Cesar resists.

David careened through the streets of London in the Jaguar, Eden and Cesar in the back seat, wishing these old cars came equipped with back seat belts.

"Nearly there!" David chirped as he plowed through a yellow and narrowly avoided the number 14 to Fulham Broadway.

Cesar was tempted to grab Eden's hand and hold on for dear life, but he resisted.

They screeched to a stop on Victoria Street.

"Stay close," Eden said as Cesar got unsteadily out of the car onto the pavement. "Hopefully this will take awhile, but you never know."

"There's a car park not far," Cesar helpfully supplied, but the look on David's face told him he'd be buzzing by Buckingham Palace and startling the queen rather than patiently waiting to pick them back up.

"He's not wrecked yet," Eden cheerfully said as he put his arm through Cesar's and they rounded the corner to Cardinal Place and the Costa Coffee. 

"He's going to be useful if we need to make a quick get away," Cesar had to concede. 

They were meeting Guti to informally discuss Occasions take over of the Royal Wedding flowers. Eden had a binder of floral arrangements under one arm and a Cesar had a laptop case. They'd spent all morning perfecting their pitch.

Things had warmed between them since their interlude in St. George's Chapel. While Cesar was still wary of the ramifications of them becoming involved, he'd learned he could trust Eden with the job, if nothing else. For whatever reason, his own freedom or the Crown, Eden was fully dedicated to making this con work so they could stop the plot and catch Guti red handed. Bellamy too.

"Are we allowed to have a pastry?" Cesar wondered as they stepped in and he eyed the Lemon Drizzle Slice.

"It's an actual miracle you don't weight 400 pounds," Eden said as he patted Cesar on his flat belly. "Go get a slice and get me an Americano, black."

In the corner there was a blond, slim man of about forty who had to be Guti. Eden would have known him even if he hadn't seen pictures. He carried himself like a man who was used to getting what he wanted, but also had the look of a man who knew exactly what was going around him at all times, like he was expecting someone to come after him.

Eden hoped he wore it better than Guti.

"Excuse me," Eden said, as he adopted his character. "I'm looking for a very handsome man, so it must be you."

"Mr. Hermans?" Guti asked, looking like he didn't want to be charmed but was be being charmed anyway.

"At your service," Eden said as he offered a hand. "My assistant missed his breakfast and he's grabbing a bite. He glanced at the table and saw that Guti already had a latte in front of him. "Oh, you and him both so lucky. I can't touch a drop of dairy or I gain a stone."

Guti shook the hand and gestured to a seat. "It's a skinny and I skipped breakfast."

"Isn't getting older the worst," Eden lamented even though he hadn't seen thirty yet. He took a seat. "So. I hear you're in need of a florist."

"I am," Guti said. "I know you are a wedding planning firm, but your website said that you specialize in flowers and have your own floral outlet."

"We do," Eden said. "I spent several years working for a wedding planner in Brussels and we were forever running into issues with the florist we used. I decided when I set this place up, we'd go direct and take out the middleman."

"Very smart. But how do you create the displays? I mean, are you a floral artist?"

"No," Eden said. "I barely know a gardenia from a dahlia. I'd hire in my own artists for a job of this magnitude. Of course, if you have some people to recommend, I'd be grateful."

Guti smiled. "I do have a few excellent people I use."

Cesar arrived with the cake and drinks. "Have I missed anything?"

* * * *

"You agreed to WHAT?"

"Cesar, darling, you have to stop having a heart attack every time you miss something in a conversation," Eden patted his knee as they sat together at a pub across the street from the Costa. He signaled to the bartender for two pints.

Cesar groaned. "We can't hire Bellamy as a florist."

"He's actually quite good."

"That's not the point. The point is that I told Conte we couldn't use the florists with criminal records, made an enemy out of Cesc who still isn't answering my texts despite the fact I've send him two Godiva gift baskets, if we hire them I'm never going to be able to explain it."

"That's why we give them aliases, and when Cesc goes to do the background checks, Fernando leaves him a trail that leads to a nice, quiet man from Wales who never once attacked anyone with a golf club."

“Why didn’t Guti do that?”

“Because Guti has learned, the hard way, exactly how vetted the contractors who work with the royal family really are. Well, especially when you’re looking for reasons to not allow a certain contractor,” Eden picked up his pint and had a sip.

“Cesc is going to be on that mercilessly. And as much as he annoys me, he’s running background checks not as punishment, but because he has an eye for data that’s second to none,” Cesar advised, ignoring his pint. It was barely noon and they had so much to get done today.

“So, we make sure these never get to his desk.”

“No,” Cesar shook his head. “That isn’t going to work. He’ll know. He’ll notice he’s been bypassed again and he’ll go looking.”

“I don’t recall the MI-5 ever actually being this good at their jobs,” Eden said, slightly annoyed. 

It was Cesar’s turn to give a cheeky grin. “Leave Cesc to me.”

Eden raised an eyebrow. “Are you going to throw your body at him too to distract him?”

“I never threw my body at you,” Cesar shot back too quickly. Then he went pink and grabbed the pint, taking a long drink.

“You don’t notice when you do it,” Eden replied as he gazed at Cesar. “You just stand there, totally the job. Intensely focused on what you’re doing, being the hero.”

Cesar looked up.

“And it’s the fucking sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Cesar choked on the beer he was drinking and Eden burst out laughing. 

“Well, now that wasn’t sexy,” Eden chuckled as he offered Cesar a napkin off the bar to wipe his chin. Cesar reached for it, but Eden held onto it, using it to wipe the dribbles off himself.

Cesar pulled back. “You have to stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“Looking at me like you want to fuck until we both pass out.”

Eden bit his lower lip and released the napkin into Cesar’s hand. Cesar proceeded to dab the beer off his shirt.

“Maybe I do.”

Cesar got up. No. No. No. Do not engage in this. You. Can. Not.

Eden dropped money on the bar and got up to follow him. Out in the street, blinking against the bright April light, he grabbed Cesar’s hand and pulled him down an alley beside the pub.

Cesar tried to pull away, but the smaller man proved to be deceptively strong. 

“I’m not going to pretend I don’t want you,” Eden said as he pressed into Cesar. 

“We can’t be together. We have this job. You’re a criminal. I’m a the law.”

“They say opposites attract,” Eden persisted.

“We can’t get distracted,” Cesar protested.

“I’m already distracted,” Eden countered. “And I’d try to convince you that maybe we should just fuck and get it out of our systems, but we both know that’s a lie.” Eden slid his hands around Cesar’s back.

“It is?”

“Once would never be enough, would it?”

“No.”

Cesar began to lose his grip on his resolve. He just...maybe…

There was a long car horn that startled them both.

“HEY! I’m double parked. Get a move on!” David called from the road.

Eden sighed and backed away. “This isn’t over.”

Cesar didn’t insult him by denying it.


	12. Cesar was cool and Cesc was a dork

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cesc smells a rat.

Ah, new florists, Cesc thought as he showed up at work Monday morning. The files were sat on his desk, shiny and ready to go. Cesc filled his coffee mug and settled into his chair. Cesc was nearly done with the Royal Wedding project and he was bit bummed. He'd be back to vetting future military members, and while that was fine, this was so much more interested. Most 18 year olds haven't done much worth investigating. Sixty year old bakers had a life story worth looking into.

He opened his desk drawer and found his chocolate stash was increasing again. Cesar still must have guilt.

He supposed he should forgive Cesar. There was clearly a project he was working on that was bigger than Royal Wedding background checks. There was a reason he needed those florists denied.

Maybe the reason Cesc was really angry was that he'd been left out of whatever Cesar did. Cesc was good at his job. And he did enjoy it. But Cesar did big important international things. Cesar was cool and Cesc was a dork. 

When you went out on a date with an MI5 agent, you expected to date someone hot and cool. When Cesc went out on a date, they were always disappointed to find a nerd.

"You work for MI5?"

"Yeah."

"Take out any Russian spies lately?"

"No, I run background checks on florists."

Cesc sighed and opened up the first file. 

Several hours later, he was confused. He was on the fourth file already and not a damn one of these florists had so much as a parking ticket to their names. Even his grandmother had a citation for speeding and she only drove to church every week and rarely got the car out of third gear.

There was something not right here. Not right at all.

"Hey Cesc," Cesar said as he came around to the entrance to Cesc's cubicle.

Cesc looked up to see Cesar brandishing yet another box of truffles.

"Azpilicueta," Cesc replied coolly.

"You get the new florist files? You need help?" Cesar asked as he awkwardly set the box on Cesc's desk.

"No," Cesc said as he started to turn away. And then he turned back.

"Actually, I need you to run these all again. I've done these four and not a single one of them flagged anything."

"Well, that's good, isn't it?" Cesar said with a smile, thinking that Fernando had done his job well.

"No," Cesc said. "They're too perfect. None of these people even have a late fee on their credit reports."

"Well...they're florists," Cesar said as panic began to well up in him. Maybe Fernando had done his job too well.

"Even florists forget to pay a mobile phone bill once in awhile. These aren't real people. Or someone has gone in and cleared out their records," Cesc said. 

"Why would they do that?" Cesar asked. Shit. Shit. Shit.

"That is what I intend to find out."

Shit.

"Cesc. You wanna go grab a Nandos?" Cesar asked, knowing what had to be done.

"It's barely 11 am," Cesc said as he glanced at his Apple watch.

"No time like the present for a Peri Peri break."

"What's going on here, Cesar?" Cesc asked, lowering his voice.

"My treat. You can even get a custard tart."

* * * *

Cesc knew something was definitely up when they caught the tube and ended up at a random Nandos at Fulham Broadway where no MI5 agents would be on that rainy April day. Cesar even let him get chip AND macho peas.

"Okay," Cesc said as he slurped up his ice cream. "What the heck is going on?"

"You're not going to believe this."

About fifteen minutes later, Cesc was literally dumbfounded. He was staring at Cesar like he'd grown a new head. 

Cesar got up and refilled Cesc's cup of ice cream. Cesc could make our break this entire op right now. Eden was going to flip out, never mind Conte when he had to tell them. 

He set the cup down in front of Cesc and looked at him expectantly.

"This...." Cesc said, taking a spoonful and holding it aloft. "This is..."

Cesar waited expectantly.

"Fucking AWESOME," Cesc hissed.

"What?"

"This! Like, serious top secret super spy shit!"

"Well, we are MI5."

"You're MI5- I'm the geek who sits by the computer and supplies the witty comic relief every now and then. But this? Like super secret double agent shit. I cannot believe you're working with Eden Hazard. SHIT."

"Shhh," Cesar hissed as Cesc raised his voice in his obvious glee.

Cesc stuffed the melty bite of ice cream in his mouth. He swallowed it and grinned. "I'm so in. What do you need."

* * * *

Cesar returned to the Occasions office and found Eden making lists of flora markets. "What's up?"

"We gotta talk."

Eden raised an eyebrow.

Cesar led him to the back room where Fernando was wired into his laptop, apparently playing Fortnite.

"We need the office," Cesar snapped and Fernando gave him a glare before picking up his laptop and shuffling out of the room.

"You don't need to be nasty to Fernando," Eden said mildly.

"Fernando nearly ruined this entire con. The backgrounds he left on the new batch of florists was too clean. Cesc saw through it in about five minutes."

"I thought you wanted them squeaky clean."

"Clean, not up for sainthood!"

Eden frowned. "What do you mean?"

"He gave them spotless records. Every single one. We're not looking for saints. These people are florists. Cesc was prepared to clear Bellamy with his record and arrest for assault. It was in the past. He saw him as a reformed man. And a fucking florist, so how violent could he be..."

"Azpi."

"What."

"What did you do?"

"I had to tell Cesc?"

"You told Cesc."

"About...us..."

"You told him we want to fuck like depraved animals."

"What...wait...WHAT?"

Eden bit his lip. "You told him about the con?"

"Yes."

"Do you trust him?"

"Yes."

"Then we're good."

"No, now I have to tell Conte."


	13. Are you writing this down, Francesc?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Occasions has a new secretary and Cesar tries to think like a criminal

“Florists?” Cesc asked as he sat down at the desk in the Occasions office. Not only had Conte been okay with Cesc being aware of the con, he’d suggested taking Cesc on the team. 

Cesar was pretty sure this was Conte’s way of punishing him for blowing their cover.

“We just organize the florists,” Cesar said. “We’re wedding planners.”

“So…” Cesc looked around. 

“Hazard isn’t here. He’s meeting with our suppliers today,” Cesar said with a smile. “I need you to find me ribbons.”

“Is this a step up from background checks on florists?” Cesc wondered as he checked out the top of the line Mac sitting on the desk. It was miles better than the five year old PC he used at the MI5

“We got a Nandos around the corner that delivers.”

“Sweet,” Cesc beamed as he began his online searches.

About an hour later, Eden arrived with Iker. “I talked to Guti. He wants us to meet with the event people at Windsor this afternoon. I’m bringing Iker along because he’s going to need to build us some stuff to put flowers on.” 

Out of the corner of his eye, Eden noticed the man at the desk, gaping at him. “Hi, you must be Cesc. Cesar told me he’d hired a secretary.”

Cesc tried not to make a face. He really did. He knew his cover was as the assistant at this place, but…

“Administrative Assistant,” Cesc said with a sniff.

Behind Eden, Iker was suppressing a grin. Cesc had just noticed the man in a tool belt and he had to have another look.

“I’m Eden Hermans, and this is our carpenter and general handyman, Iker.”

“Hi,” Cesc said with a winning smile. 

Iker smiled back at him, thinking the new secretary was kind of adorable. But Iker had wasted too much time with secretaries who were only working long enough to catch a husband. He needed a love with a real, exciting career. Like maybe an MI5 agent. But not one of those ones that did dangerous field work. Someone who sat at a desk, but still came home from work with stories more exciting than copier jams.

"Nice to meet you," Iker said, and went to go check on the floor plan of the chapel.

Cesc deflated a little at the total brush off.

Ribbons. He was supposed to find ribbons.

Eden pulled Cesar back into the office. "That's Cesc?"

"Uh, yeah," Cesar said with a frown. "Why?"

"That adorable piece of ass has the cubicle next to you?"

"Uh, yeah. And he drives me crazy." Cesar was frowning at Eden for a long moment, and then realization dawned on him. He bit his lower lip, then said. "I mean, he can be annoying, but he is kinda hot. He works out at the gym every day. Shirtless."

Eden's blue eyes darkened. "And you brought him here to work with us?"

"Yeah. I mean, he's nice to look at and all. Don't you think?"

Cesar's blue eyes sparkled and after a long moment, Eden realized that Cesar was making fun of him.

"You brought him here because your boss made you and he already blew our cover and the back up won't hurt?"

"I told you that already, Mr. Jealous," Cesar said as he leaned in. "You're this jealous and I won't even sleep with you."

"I'm not jealous," Eden said. "But if you're going to fuck anyone on the team, it had better be me."

"As soon as I decide to, I'll let you know."

There was a knock on the door and Cesc stuck his head in. "You want me to order lunch? It's nearly noon and we're do at Windsor at half one."

"Uh, sure," Cesar said as he stepped past Eden. "Let me show you where we keep the menus."

Cesc followed Cesar back to the front desk. "You mean you don't just go online and order?"

"Well, of course we do. I needed an exit."

Cesc grinned. "Are you flirting with that criminal?"

"What, me? No," Cesar said and flushed.

"He's hawt."

"You think so?" Cesc asked and an evil, evil thought occurred to him. 

"Sure. Don't you?"

"Because he was just telling me he thinks you're pretty cute?"

"He...he does?" Cesc said, eyes wide, lunch forgotten. "But...but...he's a thief!"

"Well, sure. But he's on our side here," Cesar said. "What's the harm in a little flirtation?"

"He's a bad man and we're the good guys?" Cesc reminded him.

Cear sighed, his plan clearly not going anywhere. "Order the meal for six. Fernando, the tech guy, eats a ton. And get all the sauces on the side."

"Can I get chips?"

"Yes."

"And peas?"

"Cesc?"

"Yes?"

"Order whatever you want."

“Isn’t this on an MI5 expense account?"

"Well, we've got an...alternate source of income around here."

"Weddings?" Cesc asked as a hopeful looking young woman carrying a white, frilled binder stepped into the office.

* * * *

Cesc managed to talk his way onto the party headed over to Windsor after booking the young woman in to discuss wedding plans the week after the Royal Wedding as they were just "So so busy until then." Cesc felt a little bad, but Cesar promised they'd send her a nice cancellation note along with a packet of the official Royal Wedding napkins embossed with the royal crest.

"We're bound to get in a load of people once word gets out we're doing the Royal Wedding," Cesc mentioned as he went online to order an extra hundred packets of the napkins from the official Royal supplier.

"Maybe we should just start telling people we're booked up and not taking any clients," Eden said as they arrived at the back entrance to the Castle.

"And deny that young woman a chance to tell ALL her friends and family that the Royal Wedding planner is doing her wedding? She can dine out on this until the wedding day!"

"He's devious," Eden agreed as he put on a bright, cheery smile and waved at the woman at the door.

"Hello! You must be Belinda! I'm Eden from Occasions- and my crew!" Eden made introductions to a startled looking Belinda. She was a hassled looking white woman in her later 30s. "Now. We know you had a florist and they got last minute cold feet, but we are here today to assure you that we will have this whole thing in hand before we leave today. If Ms. Markle wants ghost orchids for her bouquet I will personally fly to Cuba and pick some for her."

"She wants white roses and the ones that smell good, not the hot house ones that only look good," Belinda spit out.

"Only tea roses for the future princess. Are you writing this down, Francesc?"

Cesc nodded and hurriedly began to typed into his phone. 

"Now. Let's see the venue. Iker will need to take measurements. Is anyone allergic to lilies?"

Belinda pulled a sheet from her folder. "Allergies. The Duchess of Cornwall can't be anywhere near lilies."

Cesc took the paper and Iker and Cesar trailed after Eden and Belinda as they made their way to the chapel.

"After this gig, you all should really get into wedding planning," Iker commented as he watched Eden work.

"It doesn't pay as well as saving the country," Cesar winked as he ducked out behind one of the pews check the perimeter of the chapel. The majority of the art that Guti would likely be targeting were kept in the State Apartments which was a long way from the chapel on the grounds. Guti was going to have to navigate into that area separate from the wedding. But how...?

As he gazed across at the Round Tower to where the State Apartments lay beyond, he tried to put himself in Guti's mind. Your distraction is all the way over here. The whole Castle is going to go on lock down. The Royal family would likely be evacuated back to the State Apartments so...

There had to be an underground tunnel that went from the chapel to the apartments. Liz had to use it all the time to get to church on a rainy Sunday in January.

And Guti must have figured out how to get to it.


	14. How many times have you seen Mission Impossible?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are not going to plan.
> 
>  
> 
> (It's late and it's short and I'm sorry and I'll get on this soon! The wedding is two weeks away!)

It was the week before the wedding, and Cesar was beyond frustrated. They had their plans in place, but they’d been able to glean nothing more from Guti about his master plot. Eden’s promised trip to Cardiff had never materialized. Guti rarely answered calls and dealt with business completely through emails. They had a week to go and almost nothing to go on.

"You've worked on Bellamy?" Pepe asked. Cesar's dad had appeared in London the day before, sensing his son could use some support. And he probably has brought his rocket launcher...just in case.

"We've had him staked out for a month. The man doesn't take a piss that we don't watch and if I didn't know better, I'd think there was no plan. That we're out here spending all this time and money just to provide some lovely flowers to the Royal Wedding."

"I saw the design for the centerpieces. They're just gorgeous."

Cesar gave his dad a glare, and Pepe grinned. They were sitting at the kitchen table of the Berkshire house. It was Sunday morning and they'd just gone for a run. Now they were polishing off the Nutella French toast Pepe had made for them.

"Look," Pepe said. "Guti is not an idiot. I assume you've done your research on him."

"Of course," Cesar said. "And Eden has worked with him before. He knows him well."

"Then you should know that for one, Guti never runs the same con twice. He doesn't leave trademarks. He takes his time between operations and never uses the same crew twice. And the left hand never knows what the right hand is doing. Whenever his operatives have been caught after the fact, most of them had no knowledge of the larger con that Guti was going after. He's smart and he's seasoned."

"Eden got the better of him in Istanbul," Cesar reminded him.

"And Guti learned from that. Are you certain Guti doesn't recognize Eden? I'd think he'd make it his business to know who someone like him is."

Cesc froze with his coffee cup halfway to his lips.

"And before you get any ideas, Eden is not in on it. Eden thinks, like you do, that you've fooled Guti with this florist ruse. He's on your side."

"You trust him."

"With your life, yes," Pepe said, his gaze steady on his son's. "I've seen the way he looks at you."

"Dad..."

"What, I'm just saying. I may be retired, but I'm not dead."

Cesar finished his coffee. "So we assume Guti is on to us. Now what?"

"I think we need to get the team together for a meeting."

* * * *

Cesar made a couple of phone calls, and a few hours later, the crew was assembled around the dining room table. Eden, Iker, David, and Nando all listened as Pepe and Cesar shared their suspicions.

Eden liked Cesar's dad. He didn't take any bullshit and he was willing to give everyone the benefit of the doubt no matter the situation.

"So let's say he's onto us. So now he's working his con and he's trying to con us. It's a lot of balls to juggle. He's liable to drop one," Eden pondered.

"I've been monitoring his internet and phone for two months," Nando said. "Other than liking pineapple on his pizza, he's done nothing that raises red flags."

"You sure he only has one phone?" Pepe asked.

Nando rolled his eyes, disgusted at himself. "Fuck."

Pepe shrugged. "Men like him keep more than one phone."

"Eden does," Nando agreed. "So does Cesar."

Eden and Cesar glanced at each other.

"Okay, Nando gets on the second phone angle. But we need to be more direct," David piped up. He was seriously getting into this secret agent shit. "Like, we've been playing with flowers for weeks and don't have crap. We need to like...ram a truck into the side of his office, plant some firefighters to respond to the scene and steal his hard drive."

"How many times have you seen Mission Impossible?" Iker asked, slightly alarmed.

"Like, which one?" David asked.

"You know, that's not as crazy as it sounds," Eden warmed to the concept. "He's not invited us to his place, so maybe we need to arrange our own invitation."

"I'm driving the truck," David quickly volunteered.

* * * *

Monday morning saw the crew in a truck on their way to Wales. Cesc got left at Occasions to man the desk and ward off any potential future clients. After booking in no less than 20 weddings, Cesc had be put under strict orders not to take any more because they weren't actually running a wedding planning business. This, however, did not seem to bother Cesc.

It was a good two hour drive up the M4 if you didn't hit any traffic and Eden and Cesar had time to finalize their plans.

Pepe was up front with David who wanted to hear all about the helicopters Pepe had flown in the army. Nando was on his laptop, Iker had fallen asleep, and Cesar and Eden were at the back, talking in hushed tones.

"Are we sure this is the best way to go about this?"

"Aren't I the one who's supposed to ask that question?" Cesar asked as he gazed at Eden.

"Maybe you're rubbing off on me," Eden gave him a small smile. "We don't want to scare him off."

"Well, if we do scare him off and he doesn't blow up the Royal Wedding, maybe that's a good thing," Cesar pointed out.

"This is about more than that, isn't it? Don't we want to stop him in his tracks and put him to jail?"

"Now you really do sound like me," Cesar grinned.

"Stop that or I'm going to have to kiss you," Eden licked his lips.

"Stop that or I'm going to have to kiss you."

"Stop that or I'm going to have to puke."

Cesar and Eden started and looked at Iker who had an eye open. He closed the eye. "Guti has too much in this game to be scared off at this point. The worst he's going to do is have us killed."

Cesar gaped at Iker. "I thought you were a carpenter."

"I've read a few John le Carré novels."

"This isn't a novel," Cesar reminded him.

"So we better try not to get killed," Eden advised.


	15. There’s so many easier, legal ways to make money

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wedding is close and Eden has to make some hard choices.

Eden sat in a cafe across the street from Guti’s building which held not only his office, but also his penthouse apartment. He knew that there was unlikely to be anything on the premises to implicate them, but neither did he have any better ideas about how to get his attention at this point and scare him into making a mistake.

The light was bright out to the west, streaming down the road, and Eden glanced at his watch, knowing that the team would soon be in place.

“An espresso? You really don’t need to watch your weight...Hazard.”

Startled, Eden looked up and saw Guti looming over him, blocking out the sun from the street with a smile playing on his lips. Fuck.

“So you did know it was me.”

“I knew it was you before you knew it was me. Working for the MI5, Hazard? Really?” Guti took a seat, forcing Eden to squint into the light to look at him.

“They made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”

“I hear you’re fucking Azpilicueta.”

“You hear a lot, don’t you,” Eden said blandly. He’d let himself get distracted on this con. Of course Guti had been on to him. Those operating outside the law had a far more comprehensive communication network than those working for it. No pesky international codes and bylaws to be adhered to. How stupid had he been?

He’d been more interested in Azpi than the con, that was the problem. That candy snarfing MI5 agent Azpi had brought in was more aware of the stakes than he was.

Guti had brought a cappuccino with him and was sipping it as he sized up Eden. “So. What are we here for today?”

“My crew is getting ready to break into your office and flat and see what we can find.”

“Really?” Guti looked disappointed. “They’re not going to find anything. Like I’d keep my secrets locked in some lame ass safe behind a painting over the mantlepiece like a bad 19th century detective novel.”

“Well, I could save you the clean up if you’d just tell me what you’re up to?” Eden suggested.

Guti grinned and shook his head. “This isn’t a James Bond movie either. I’m not going to sit here and spill my entire plot for dramatic and narrative effect and then let you escape to foil my dastardly plan.”

“So what is the con? What’s in it for you?”

“Why did you always do it?” Guti countered neatly. He was far too clever to fall for Eden’s traps.

“Money.”

“Really?” Guti frowned. “That’s disappointing. There’s so many easier, legal ways to make money.”

“None quite as thrilling,” Eden added. 

Guti smiled. “The rush is pretty good.”

“And the bigger the stakes, the bigger the reward,” Eden agreed. “Like taking out the Royal Wedding.”

Guti shrugged. “It’s only the spare and his American divorcee. If you wanted the big score, you’d have wanted to go for the future king and queen.”

Eden shook his head. “Too much security. Too public. They’ll never let you get a swipe at Wills.”

“But no one cares for the kid, what, fifth, sixth in line for the throne now?”

“Windsor Castle is a pretty tight fortress,” Eden mentioned.

“Yes and no,” Guti agreed. “In theory, yes. In practice, you have droves of tourists in and out all day long. And it’s big. Not like Westminster Abbey where every agent on the continent had a sweep through before the big day. They’re worried about St. George’s chapel. No one cares about the rest of the place right now.”

Eden nodded. So that confirmed their theory that he was after the art in the state rooms, and not the actual wedding. Eden began to wonder if there was even a plot to blow up the actual wedding. Just sending the MI5 around in circles on the suspicion that there was going to be an attack might be enough of a distraction.

“It really would be a career defining score,” Eden agreed. “And if you were careful about what you targeted, you might even walk out of there will millions in priceless art pieces that no one would even notice was missing for weeks...months even.”

A small smile played at Guti’s lips. He couldn’t resist. “The queen has a lot of, shall we say, old junk that she doesn’t particularly care about. There are buyers all over the globe with an interest who can never get their hands on said items because the queen can’t get rid of the junk because it was a gift to The Crown from some ambassador in 1786.”

“Could be a lucrative pay day for someone who had the right connections.”

“It could.”

“It could even be a bigger score if, say, you had someone on the inside who could distract the authorities while you raided the state rooms.”

Guti leaned back in his chair. The sun had gone down behind the buildings to the west and Eden could see him clearly for the first time. Guti was a criminal mastermind, on his own level. And Guti had worked this con perfectly. The wedding was in a week and the MI5 was chasing it's own tail. Guti was set to walk away from this with millions.

Finally, Guti spoke. "If a did have someone on the inside, how do would I know I could trust him."

Eden held his gaze steadily. "Because you know he loves the thrill of it."

"I also know he happens to be in love with a certain MI5 agent."

"Fucking is not love." Hell, they weren't even fucking.

A smile played at Guti's lips. "What would you say to 20%?"

"I'd say I'm going to need at least 40."

"Thirty."

"Done."


	16. Penny for your thoughts?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What if....what if....?

"Well, that trip was wasted," Cesar moaned as they stood putting petrol in the van as the rest of the crew had gone inside for snacks. They were on the M4, about half way back to London. 

The crew had scoured Guti's office and flat from top to bottom, and other than discovering an odd penchant for leather trousers, they had nothing.

"It really was," Eden sighed.

Cesar leaned against the van. "So, what's our next move?"

"Well, I say we go with our first plan. Keep an eye on Bellamy and his crew on the day of the wedding and you and I will monitor the feed from the security cameras of the grounds."

"Conte is going to have my ass if we put all this time and money into this scheme and we turn up nothing," Cesar closed his eyes.

Eden took a moment to look at him. He really had the most amazingly chiseled jaw. Eden just wanted to...

"Well, we're not done yet," Cesar opened his eyes as the petrol pump shut off. "We got a week to get this sorted. We're not done until we're done."

Eden smiled at him even as his gut twisted. He knew what he was doing was wrong: lying to Cesar like this.

But did he have a choice?

"They were out of salt and vinegar crisps so we got you cheese and onion," Iker said as he handed Eden a bag of snacks.

Eden made a face. "How are they out of salt and vinegar. We're in the bloody Midlands."

"We're south of the Midlands," Cesc corrected him.

"People in Swindon don't like salt and vinegar crisps?"

"Maybe they like them a lot?" Cesar wondered as he took the bag of chocolate Cesc handed over. "Can't keep them on the shelves?"

Eden opened the bag and saw a massive packet of salt and vinegar crisps. He shot a glare at Iker. "You ass."

Iker grinned at him. "The look on your face."

Eden made a half hearted swing at Iker who leapt in the van. David was already behind the wheel as Cesar screwed the gas cap back on.

Pepe paused next to him. "What were you and Hazard talking about?"

"Nothing," Cesar shrugged.

Pepe glanced at Eden who'd climbed to the back of the van. "Are we sure we still trust him?"

"You said you trusted him with my life!" Cesar hissed.

"I did," Pepe looked at Eden again. "I think I still do."

"Dad...."

David honked the horn. "Come on!"

* * * *

In the week leading up to the wedding, the crew was so busy putting together the flowers that they actually didn't have much time to worry.

"Cons are a lot more work than I expected," Cesc said, coming up for air after carrying twelve dozen pink roses into the warehouse. "I mean, I thought that this crap was easy which was why criminals did it."

Cesar had to chuckle. "There's actually a lot of effort that goes into this."

"Speaking of working cons, where's Eden been?" Cesc asked as he closed the door to the van and followed Cesar around to the front.

"Don't you start, too," Cesar sighed as he climbed behind the wheel. David had reluctantly handed over the keys as he had to collect peonies from the south coast that afternoon.

"Start what?" Cesc asked as he checked his clipboard.

"Not trusting Eden anymore. I already got Dad questioning his every move."

"Why?"

"I don't know," Cesar said, exasperated. "We all trusted him just fine before, even back when I questioned his sincerity to the op."

"Well, sure, but that was before he started disappearing all the time."

"He did that before!"

"But it's more shifty, now," Cesc said as he unwrapped a Mars bar and offered Cesar half.

Cesar ignored the chocolate and the feeling in the pit of his stomach. Why hadn't they found anything more about Guti's plot? Sure, maybe Cesar hadn't known where to look or how to approach the con, but wasn't that why they'd brought in Eden. Why was Eden suddenly content to sit back and check on flower deliveries?

You trust him, the voice in his head tried.

But did he?

* * * *

The night before the wedding, Cesar and Eden were alone in the office. The rest of the crew had gone home early, as they had to be at the castle for a 5 am call when the flower arrangements were being delivered.

"Take a walk with me?" Cesar asked as he shut down the computer.

"Where to?" Eden asked as he checked his phone and then slid it into the back pocket of his jeans.

"Just up to the castle. I just want to see...I dunno."

Eden smiled. "Maybe that last piece of the puzzle will come to you in the late evening sun?"

"Something like that."

They closed and locked the office, knowing that the space would go up for sale on Monday morning. As is. They were barely taking out the computer equipment. 

Maybe the could recoup some of the money they's blown on this op. They wouldn't let Cesar run background checks on the Chelsea Flower Show next year if this all crashed and burned like he was afraid it was going to.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Eden asked as they strolled toward the castle.

"I was just wondering if perhaps I should look at keeping Occasions open. I'm not sure I have a future in being a spy."

"We did put together some pretty amazing floral arrangements for the Royal Wedding. Not bad for our first time out."

"Right? Cesc has a list of clients. We could chuck it all in and make this business work."

Eden smiled sadly. "Something tells me that Conte isn't going to let me stay out of prison to make centerpieces."

Cesar stopped dead in his tracks. "If we don't nail Guti..."

"I'm probably going to jail, yes," Eden said as he avoided Cesar's eyes, looking up at the castle awash with the sunset. The orange light made the centuries old stone glow with an ethereal tone.

"Dammit, Eden," Cesar said, full of guilt. "I didn't...think..." Eden stepped away from him, down the wall and away from the light. The shadows grew long as Cesar took a few strides to catch up with him. "I don't want you to go to jail."

Eden chuckled. "From the start the only this you did want was for me to go to jail."

“I know,” Cesar said as he grabbed his hand. “And...I know...I just…”

“Kinda like having me around, don’t you Agent Azpi,” Eden asked as he gazed up into Cesar’s blue eyes. 

“Sorta,” Cesar said as he pressed Eden into the shadows and kissed him.

After several long minutes, Eden pulled away. “We...can’t…”

“Why not?” Cesar asked, not able to control his words.

“Because if tomorrow goes wrong, you might not still want me,” Eden broke away from Cesar and strode back toward the office.

“Eden! If this goes wrong it’s not your fault. I’ll take the blame!”

“I don't want you to take the blame!” Eden insisted as he increased his pace. He was breathing, he was not crying.

“I don’t care about my stupid career. I’m clearly bad at this job if it took me five years to catch up with you.”

Eden let out a choking laugh. “I’m good at what I do.”

They were nearly back at the office, Eden nearly sprinting at this point. He reached the door and fumbled with the lock, realizing Cesar had the key.

“You are,” Cesar whispered into his ear, his chin rested on Eden’s shoulder. “Which is why if this op is a total cock up, it’s clearly not your fault.”

“Stop saying that,” Eden begged. “I don’t…”

But Cesar silenced him with a kiss. He somehow managed to get the door unlocked and stumble them through it without losing his touch. At some point, Eden stopped pretending to resist. He was already going to hate himself if tomorrow went wrong. Maybe at least he’d have something sweet to remember Azpi by.


	17. What in heaven's name does Chelsy think she's playing at wear navy to a spring wedding?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The big day is full of surprises.

“I spent the last month of my life sourcing thirty bazillion flowers. Never mind the six months of background checks I did, and I don’t even get in invite to the wedding,” Cesc sighed as he and Fernando sat in a cramped van outside the wall of Windsor Castle, looking at an array of video monitors. Cesc’s eyes were on the BBC feed as the celebrities were beginning to arrive.

“You’d look terrible in a hat,” Fernando told him, and Cesc rolled his eyes. 

“I would look wicked in a morning coat.”

“I don’t think the queen would let you in with a pocket full of Mars Bars.”

“You know the queen has snacks in her hat.”

“Maybe that’s why they wear hats,” Fernando nodded in agreement. 

Cesc turned away from the BBC as they went to an interview with someone who did something that bored him. He glanced at the array of monitors, spotting the various agents they had in place. Several we guests. There were a couple of clergy member lurking about, and they had a camera on every angle of the chapel.

However, Cesc knew that they were unlikely to find anything at the ceremony. 

They'd literally followed the florist crew non-stop for the last week and Conte had personally taken a crew through the chapel overnight. There was nothing in the church. Guti must have decided to focus his attentions on the State Rooms in a quiet affair rather than messing with the wedding. The wedding itself was enough of a distraction, to be honest.

Unless Amal Clooney was hiding something under her dress, Cesc mused as he watched her approach the chapel from three different angles.

"I can pull off yellow," Cesc pondered.

Fernando snorted and reached across for one of Cesc's candy bars. "It washed you out something terrible."

* * * *

Eden and Cesar were sitting in the head of security's office in the main castle. The head was, of course, on site as the Royal Family gathered for the wedding. Nearly every security member employed by the government on behalf of the family was in attendance today.

"You know, if you really wanted to pull a heist today, perhaps you should have done it at one of the other royal properties, joked the security man they'd been left with. He was called Kyle and he wasn't nearly as amusing as he thought he was.

The morning had been, on the whole, uneventful. Everything was running smoothly, according to plan.

"Ready, Princes, on three..." came across the intercom.

Cesar looked to the screen and saw that Harry and William were entering the car that would take them to the main entrance of the church.

"Things about to get exciting," Eden said as he glanced at Cesar. They shared a smile and Eden got up from his seat.

"Better have a break before the Queen gets on the move."

"Her Royal Highness doesn't depart for thirty minutes," Kyle said with a frown.

"Then I got some time," Eden said with a wink as he stepped out of the office and into the corridor. Glancing at at the burner phone Guti had given him, he sent a message. 

"P2 is go."

As he made his way down to the toilets at the end of the passage, he got a message in reply.

"Initiate phase one."

Eden stepped into the toilets and switched his screen to the monitors in the security office. The first camera he diverted the feed on was the one directly outside the door he'd just entered. When he reemerged moments later, he was a ghost.

* * * *

"What you got on the outside?" Cesar radioed to Cesc.

"I'm running low on Mars Bars and what in heaven's name does Chelsy think she's playing at wear navy to a spring wedding?"

"Posh had on navy," Fernando chipped in.

"Posh can wear navy and not look like she's in mourning," Cesc countered.

"So, basically you're bored and running out of candy?"

"Yup," Cesc agreed. "You?"

"We had too much tea and Eden has been to the toilet twice already," Cesar reported.

"Really? Usually he's like a camel," Fernando commented.

"You've been monitoring his toilet habits?" Cesar wondered.

"I just remember the day we were at the office installing the fiber-optic, Iker didn't have the toilet installed yet. We were going over to the Starbucks across the road and Eden didn't leave all day."

Cesar suddenly recalled that Eden had once stolen a priceless Chinese artifact by flying in the cargo hold of a jet from Shanghai to Los Angles in the trunk of a classic Mustang. He was like a camel.

"Well, we did get up at 5 am and have had multiple cappuccinos this morning," Cesar dismissed the worry even as his eyes flicked to the camera outside the toilets. "Let me know what you see."

Cesar shut off the radio and stood up to stretch. "Might nip to the loo myself. You got this handled, Kyle?"

"Indeed I do!"

Cesar made his way down to the toilet, and was unsurprised when he pushed the door open to find an empty room. What was Eden up to?

Maybe he's double-crossed you, a mean little voice in the back of Cesar's head told him.

No, he can't have, Cesar countered. 

Cesar got out his phone and sent a text.

"What have you got?"

A moment later: "Eden taking a stroll of the State Rooms?"

"Right," Cesar sent back even as his frown deepened. Pepe had insisted on placing a tracker in Eden's phone even as Cesar had insisted that Eden was not going to betray them.

I trust him.

Cesar made his way up the service stairs to the main level of the Castle. They were close to the State Rooms, and having memorized the floor plan, Cesar was easily able to negotiate the route.

"We have the cameras handled?"

Cesar froze as he was about to turn the corner into the main hall.

"Easily done," Eden replied. "The guy they got watching them isn't paying attention."

"What about your...partner?"

"I can handle Agent Azpilicueta."


	18. I thought her majesty might object to a hole in the wall of her home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cesar has doubts. Cesc is full of doughnuts.

Cesar's mouth fell open as he recognized the other voice. It was Guti. What was Eden doing talking to Guti?

You know exactly what he's doing, Cesar's inner voice told him. He's betrayed you. Like you used to believe. Like you let yourself forget. Because you fell in love with him and let yourself be blinded to his fault.

"Well then," Guti said and Cesar heard him stride across the room. "I did promise you a souvenir. Which would you like? The Vermeer? A Raphael perhaps?"

"Oh, I'll have a bit of a look around, if you don't mind," Eden said.

Guti chuckled. "Suit yourself. We have exactly 30 minutes before the Queen departs. Anything...or anyone, not in the truck gets left."

"Understood."

Cesar heard a pair of footsteps walk away and after a few moments, peered around the corner.

And found himself looking into the deep blue eyes of Eden.

“You need to go back to the security office,” Eden said.

“No.”

“Azpi.”

“What are you doing?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“I can help.”

“No.”

Cesar’s heart was sinking. How could Eden do this. After last night? How could he betray him like this?

“Let me help you.”

“It’ll end your career.”

“I don’t care.”

“Well, I do. Now go.” Eden’s eyes were hollow, not showing any emotion. Cesar felt tears sting at the back of his eyes.

“I either have to help you or stop you.”

“Do you trust me?” Eden asked, his eyes steely.

“Yes.” There wasn’t a moment hesitation.

“Then will you please believe you can help me best by going back to the security office?”

Cesar paused. “How?”

“Trust me.”

Cesar turned and walked away.

* * * *

"Your mate get lost?"

"He's checking the loading docks," Cesar lied smoothly. "He'll be back in a bit."

He got out his phone and sent Cesc a text. "Network compromised. Report directly to me."

Across the estate, Cesc saw the text and frowned at it. He glanced at Fernando who seemed unconcerned as he popped Skittles into his mouth and commented on the side-eye Elton John just gave someone off camera.

"He's got a great bitch face," Fernando chuckled.

"Everything looking...secure?" Cesc asked with all the casualness of a bull in a china shop.

Fernando threw him a look. "No one has blown up yet, no."

Cesc nodded sagely and sent Cesar a text. "Acknowledged."

Cesc wondered what was going on. Was someone on the crew suspect? Was it Fernando? Was Cesar quietly telling Cesc to question Fernando?

Cesc’s question made Fernando run a check of the video feeds and found a discrepancy. "Someone is piggybacking our feed."

"Do what?" Cesc asked as he leaned forward.

"The surveillance feed. Nearly all the cameras to the State Rooms are on static feed from a third party." Fernando picked up his walkie talkie and Cesc batted it out of his hand.

"Cesar said to text," Cesc held up the phone.

"He knew this was happening?" Fernando asked, alarmed.

"I'm not sure what he knew, but he's suspicious of someone on the crew," Cesc said as he quickly sent word of Fernando's discovery. "Is there anything you can do to get the live feed back?"

"No," Fernando said, "They must have a hard wire tap on it. I'm locked out."

Cesc got up from his seat, dusting doughnut powder off his jeans. Cesar texted. “Meet Pepe at the main gate and do a walk through.”

“Acknowledged.”

* * * *

Pepe got the text to meet Cesc at the front gate. “H is in the back, by the loading docks.”

When Cesar didn’t reply, Pepe let out a frustrated sigh. He blamed himself. He’d told Cesar to trust Eden. Cesar hadn’t wanted to work with him in the first place.

But he’d really felt like Eden was someone to be trusted. Maybe Eden was a better con man than Pepe had given him credit for. 

He wouldn’t make that mistake again. 

Ignoring Cesar’s order to meet Cesc, he doubled back to the loading docks where he found a Tesco van with none other than Craig Bellamy at the wheel.

Bellamy didn’t see him, and Pepe ducked behind some crates to observe the scene.

Several men dressed in the royal footman attire were loading all manner of art into the back. Pepe seriously hoped someone in there was crating those vases carefully or there was going to be a lot of pricey debris by the time they got where they were going.

Eden appeared carrying a canvas, and Pepe’s eyes narrowed.

He sent a text. “I can bring this crashing down on your head right now if you don’t explain yourself.”

Eden took the phone out of his pocket and glanced at it. He sent back a furious reply.

“I know what I’m doing.”

“I can see that. I’m not going to let you.”

“I’m doing this for Cesar.”

Eden had disappeared back into the house, and Pepe made his way around to a side door, out of sight of the other men. He saw Guti on the crew and realized they could take out the whole operation right now. 

But he decided to give Eden the chance to explain himself. If nothing else, they had a tracker on Hazard and could follow the truck when it left.

He followed Eden through the state rooms and found him in the Queen’s sitting room taking a painting from the wall.

“You have exactly 60 seconds to explain to me why I shouldn’t drag you out of here in handcuffs.” Pepe was holding his gun on Eden.

Eden turned to him. “You know, I made the mistake of underestimating you before. I won’t do that again.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Hazard.” Pepe’s aim didn’t waver.

Eden grinned. “No rocket launcher?”

“I thought her majesty might object to a hole in the wall of her home. Stop stalling.”

“Look, we were getting nowhere with the investigation. So I let Guti think I was working as a double agent and joined his crew. We leave here with a truck full of stuff. I make a call and you guys stop him halfway to Luton. We get the crew, we save the art, and we don’t disrupt the wedding.”

“Why did you lie to Cesar?”

“Because if this goes wrong, I want him to be able to honestly report to Conte he had no idea what I was doing.”

“You’re protecting him,” Pepe said, lowering the gun.

Eden didn’t say anything, but Pepe read it all in his eyes. He’d been right to trust this man.

“I’m tracking you.”

“And I’m putting trackers on every piece I load,” Eden offered up a handful of GPS disks.

“Be careful,” Pepe said.

“Always.”


	19. Care to join me for a little chat, Mr. Hazard?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The End...for now anyway!

“Where have you been!” Cesc hissed as Pepe appeared at the front gate of Windsor Castle. He was striding over to a Mercedes which was parked by the gate.

“I was testing the cake. Chill.”

“What kind of cake is it?” Cesc said hopefully.

“Lemon and Elderflower.”

“Seriously? Gross.”

“Get in the car,” Pepe hissed.

“I thought we were going to walk the state rooms.”

“Change of plans. Guti is filling a van around back. We’re going to stake out the exit to the grounds and follow him.”

“Ah, and avoid a disturbance that would interrupt the royal wedding and potentially embarrass the entire Commonwealth. Excellent plan,” Cesc hopped in and got out his phone and Pepe gaped at him for a long moment as every now and then, Cesc reminded them how he made it to MI5. “Should I text Cesar?”

“He knows,” Pepe lied. He did intend to tell Cesar in time to avoid his own embarrassment when Conte came to congratulate him on a job well done, but after the heist was out of the area.

“We leaving Fernando to keep an eye on the wedding?” Cesc asked.

“Ninety percent of MI5 is watching the wedding,” Pepe reminded him. “And half of the CIA. If Oprah sneezes, she’ll have at least fifteen handkerchiefs.”

“Fernando is going to wat the rest of my candy stash,” Cesc lamented.

“We’ll run through a Tesco after the take down.”

“Damn straight. I ain’t filling out forms until I have at least a Kinder Egg.”

Pepe and Cesc nearly missed the van leaving. The queen had departed and in the traffic mess, they lost them until they reached the M4. Nearly every other road in Windsor was shut down due to the wedding, and Guti’s driver clearly had a plan of which routes were available.

Cesc’s phone beeped. “Cesar wants to know if we’ve found anything.”

“Ignore it.”

“I thought…”

Pepe gave him a glare that suggested rocket launchers might be sent up his backside, and Cesc pressed his lips together.

They were a few cars behind the Tesco van as they made their way up the M25 and Cesc correctly assumed they were on their way to Luton Airport.

"Crap, they'll be out of the country with that stuff before Harry and Meghan say I do," Cesc said.

"I've got a team waiting for us at Luton," Pepe reported.

"Should we...uh...tell Cesar now?" Cesc ventured.

Pepe glanced over. "You're too fucking smart, kid."

Cesc beamed. "First in my class at Cambridge."

"You went to Cambridge?" Pepe's jaw did fall this time.

"I read law for a couple of years, but switched to Criminology. I got recruited for MI5 after I graduated."

"Damn," Pepe said, knowing that Cesar had applied three times before getting into the MI5. 

"Enough with the exposition, should I call Cesar?"

"Yeah," Pepe agreed.

Cesc made the call. "We're tracking Guti and a truck full of the Queen's royal belongings up the M25 toward Luton Airport."

"Is Eden with them?"

Cesc raised his eyebrows. "Eden?"

"Yes," Pepe said and Cesc held the phone over. "He alerted me to the heist and is hiding in the back of the van."

There was a long pause before Cesar replied. "I'll mobilize the Luton police. Let them get to the airport before we take them down and minimize any potential contact with the public."

"See, he's smart too!" Cesc beamed as he took the phone back. "Have we been in contact with Eden? I mean, I assume he cleared this all with you?"

"Of course," Cesar lied. 

* * * *

Eden sat in the back of the truck with several of Guti's crew. None had questioned his presence. This, he pondered, was why Guti was about to go down. You just didn't change the plan at the last minute on your crew.

But Eden had, hadn't he? I did it for him, Eden told himself.

He's going to forgive you. He'll know you did it for him.

It was stifling inside the truck. There was only the low light escaping into the edges of the truck to light them. He had his phone in his pocket, but he didn't dare take it out to see how long they'd been in there.

But even as he wondered, the van slowed as it exited the motorway. Eden was assuming they'd rented a hangar and would transfer the goods inside of it and thus, not alarm the employees.

However, when the door to the truck opened, Guti was stood there with a gun.

"Care to join me for a little chat, Mr. Hazard?"

Eden gazed down the barrel of the gun with an easy smile. "Surely there's no need for that. I've proved I was on your side."

"Except for all the tracking devices all over this truck ad the MI5 agents that have been tailing us since we left the castle?"

"I didn't tell them where we were going," Eden said.

"Well, I've taken care of them. And now I'm going to take care of you."

* * * *

"Gunfire reported at Luton Airport."

Cesar heard the call come through as he was barrelling down the M25 with David at the wheel.

"Who fired? I thought we weren't in place!" Cesar demanded of the agent on the other end of the line. "Cesc!"

There was silence at his request.

"Has anyone been in touch with Agent Fabregas!" Cesar demanded as his panic mounted. Cesc was with his father, though his father wasn’t technically supposed to be involved. The same with David, but if you wanted to get somewhere, you took your slightly insane wheelman.

David had the pedal to the floor as he dodged neatly in and out of traffic. His focus was entirely on the road even as Cesar shouted into the phone, not getting the answers he wanted. Cesar was gripping the seat, but astonishingly, David missed everything they went past, and soon they were at the Luton Airport exit.

“Where at the airport?” David asked and Cesar looked at his phone, pulling up the GPS app. “The hangar is at the south east edge. TURN HERE.”

David took the corner on two wheels as they dodged past a tourist bus and nearly wiped out a Smart Car. They blew past the security gate.

“LEFT!” Cesar was still screaming instructions. When they arrived on the scene, the place was crawling with police. “That’s Dad’s car! There!”

Cesar was out of the car before it had come to a full and complete stop. An officer tried to intercept him, but Cesar wasn’t to be stopped. However, when he came to the window, there was no one in the car.

“Cesar!”

He turned and relief flood him. “Dad.”

His dad as standing with Cesc by two officers and Cesc appeared to be trying to convince them that Pepe was with him.

“No, he’s not MI5….he’s a consultant.”

Cesar’s relief was temporary. “Where’s Eden? Who got shot?”

“He’s fine,” Pepe said. 

Cesar turned to look and saw Eden, in handcuffs, being led to a police van.

Cesar ran over even as the police officers tried to ask Cesar for his identification. Seriously, who did these people think they were???

Cesar wanted to demand they take the handcuffs off of him, but then he remembered that Eden wasn’t officially working for them. They’d have to spring him later.

“So, you thought you could outsmart me?” Cesar asked as he approached, his eyes speaking volumes of relief. And love.

“I can never outsmart you, Agent Azpi,” Eden said with a wink.


	20. Have a Mars Bar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Perhaps it's not all done and dusted after all

Cesc walked into the MI5 office building for the first time in weeks. He'd gotten so caught up in being undercover, he'd even stopped answering his work emails and he dreaded what was sitting on his desk.

He made his way through the open plan office space on the fourth floor, pausing to chat to a few people along the way, everyone well impressed that dorky Cesc had helped pull down one of the most notorious international criminals in the world, never mind saving the Queen.

When he arrived at his cubicle, he stopped cold. There were stacks of Amazon boxes on every surface.

"What the...?"

Cesc pulled the top box off the stack and opened it. Inside was a bulk pack of Mars Bars. Peering at the receipt, he realized that someone had set up a daily delivery of Mars Bars to him. 

He wasn't even mad as he shuffled the boxes around so he could locate his desk. You couldn't have too many Mars Bars.

Unwrapping one, he logged into his computer to face the emails. He also had to get cracking on his report and too many things.

He was luckier than Cesar. He'd been taken from the airport for a debrief two days ago and Cesc still wasn't sure if they'd let him out yet. He'd not paid much attention to the news, but the lack of press at his flat let him know that the MI5 had kept his name out of it all, but he wondered that Cesar's cover had been completely blown. This experiment using Eden to help them catch the bad guys could be over as soon as it started.

"Fabregas- boss wants to see you."

Cesc looked up to see his friend Juan Mata looking a bit severe. Maybe it wasn't going to be as smooth for him as he'd hoped.

"Have a Mars Bar," he said, tossing Juan a candy and getting up.

"Are all of these Mars Bars?" Juan asked as he eyed the boxes.

"I sure hope so," Cesc said as he slipped an extra into his pocket. You never knew how long a meeting with the boss might take. You did need to keep your strength up.

Cesc made his way to Conte's office and was surprised to find not only his boss, but Cesar and a man he didn't know sitting in the room. Conte himself was not behind the desk, but a man with salt and pepper hair who looked to be in his mid fifties.

Conte sat on the other side of the desk, and Cesc looked to him for permission to sit, but the new man was clearly in charge.

"Agent Fabregas? Please have a seat."

Cesc sat, trying to catch either Conte or Cesar's eye, but they were both examining their shoes. Both wore suits, but Cesar looked like he may have been sleeping in his. What was going on?

"My name is Jose Mourinho. I have been asked to take over this division."

Cesc opened his mouth, realized he had nothing to say that wouldn't come out like he was questioning the appointment of his new boss, and closed it again. 

Cesar glanced up at him with a slightly raised eyebrow.

"Yes," Mourinho continued as if he hadn't actually expected Cesc to speak. "The director general thinks that this department needs a bit of...discipline."

"But..." Cesc started to sputter. "We got Guti and Bellamy..."

"Yes," Mourinho said as though the two weren't significant. "However, you've managed to let Hazard escape...again."

Cesc goggled.

"He got out of our custody on the way to the interrogation," Conte said shortly.

Cesc didn't dare look at Cesar. Well...surely this was planned, right? If they were going to use Eden again for other...cases...surely...?

"It seems that Mr. Hazard was simply playing along with us until he could make his escape again," Mourinho said, his tone making it clear what he thought about their deal with Hazard to aid the MI5.

Conte and Cesar were silent, and Cesc wanted to smack the pair of them. They'd fucking gotten their men and...

Cesc took a deep breath. "What did you need to see me about, sir?"

"Just to let you know that despite of your help with this charade, you're not going to be charged."

"CHARGED?"

Jose ignored the outburst. "You were clearly working on orders and had no reason to suspect otherwise."

"But..."

"Be sure your report is on my desk before you leave today."

"BUT..."

"That will be ALL, Mr. Fabregas."

Dumbly, Cesc got out of his seat. Conte finally looked up and his message was clear. Keep your damn mouth shut.

When Cesc had departed, Cesar realized that Cesc had managed to slip a Mars Bar into his pocket.

* * * *

"What was that all about?" Juan asked returned to see if he could pilfer more candy. When he picked up an entire package of bars and Cesc didn't even look up, his voice grew concerned. "Cesc?"

Cesc glanced at him. His face changed. "Hey Juan - I'm having trouble getting started here. You wanna go grab a Costa and take a walk?"

"Yeah, absolutely," Juan said an reluctantly set down the box. He and Cesc talked about his two dogs on the way to the Costa in the lobby and they they stepped out into the May sunshine.

They walked all the way north to Lambeth Bridge before Cesc felt like he could speak his mind.

"They fired Conte?"

"The official word is that he's taking early retirement," Juan reported. 

"But he's taking the fall for Hazard escaping. Do we even know if he actually escaped and isn't just...you know, lying low until this blows over and they'll have him and Cesar back working again?"

Juan frowned. "You can't possibly think that continuing this...well, whatever it is that Conte and Cesar dreamed up is a good idea?"

"Well," Cesc shrugged. "I mean Eden helped them catch Guti. And Bellamy."

"Hazard helped Guti clean out the Queen!"

"They got it all back!"

"Yeah, but the point..."

"The whole point was that they were doing things that we can't really get away with here."

Juan sighed. "Look, Cesc. I know you got caught up in that and you're damn lucky to even still be working here."

Cesc sighed. "Mourinho did tell me that they were finding me blameless."

"Exactly. Mourinho seems like a good guy. He used to be in the Northern Ireland Terrorism Division. I liked Conte, too, but I think this is going to be a good transition."

Cesc nodded as he sipped his hot chocolate. Perhaps it was going to be best for him to just play nice with the new boss until he could get a chance to take to Cesar.

Because he didn't believe for a second that Cesar didn't know where Eden had gone.


	21. COOL STUFF

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eden's in hiding and Cesar has an unexpected invitation.

Eden sipped his mug of coffee and gazed out at the Mediterranean. It was a still day, and the sea had almost a glassy appearance as waves gently rolled into the shore below him.

There was a knock at the door.

Eden set his coffee down and went to answer it.

"Mr. Hazard."

"Sir," Eden replied as Cesar's dad, Pepe walked into the waterfront flat in Barcelona.

"Cesar's in a lot of shit with the MI5," Pepe said bluntly even before Eden could offer him a coffee.

Eden moved to the bar for the whiskey instead. "I know," he said with a frown as he poured two measures into crystal tumblers.

"His new boss is a right pain in the ass," Pepe said as he accepted the glass and they both drank.

"Yes, he is," Eden said as he made his way out to the deck. He'd gotten out of London in the chaos after the wedding. No one had noticed a Jason Seaver getting on the Eurostar late that night, changing trains in Paris, and arriving in Barcelona the following afternoon.

There was a lot of finger pointing about his escape, but honestly, in the crowds of wedding well-wishers, he probably could have used his real passport and gotten out of the city.

Especially since Cesar appeared to still be in custody.

"At least the rest of the crew seem to have gone under the radar," Pepe said. "Iker and Fernando disappeared into the wind and Cesar managed to convince them that David had been an innocent bystander whose car he'd commandeered in the heat of the moment."

"They think I was just working with Guti's crew?"

"Yup," Pepe said. "The premises of the wedding planner have been dismantled."

"No wonder the new boss is angry," Eden said with a twinkle in his eye.

"So how do we get Cesar out of this?" Pepe demanded.

"Patience, my friend. Patience."

* * * *

Cesar was finally allowed to go home after three days of "debriefing". Eden was gone, Conte was fired, and Cesar's new boss, Mourinho had made it clear that if he slipped even slightly, he'd be fired and likely prosecuted.

He strongly suspected the only reason he'd been sent home at all was the hope that he'd lead them to Eden. He didn't think for a second that he wasn't being tracked.

Picking up an Amazon box from his front step, Cesar let himself into his flat. He kicked aside the pile of post that was cluttering the entrance and carried the box to the kitchen. Putting on the kettle, Cesar went back to collect the post and peruse the menu from his favorite take-away.

After ordering enough Chinese for him and three imaginary guests, Cesar sipped his tea and opened the box. Inside he found a pack of Mars Bars. With a smile, he picked up the receipt. Under the gift message, he saw:

"Meet me at the Tower of London. 4pm."

Cesar's heart leapt. Surely he wasn't still in London?

Checking his watch, he saw it was just past three. 

He grabbed two Mars Bars and rand the take-away to cancel his order, thinking longingly of the moo shu pork he wouldn’t be eating.

Eden would want to go to some posh place. Eden and his tiny portions of overpriced food…

Cesar imagined the reunion a dozen times as he took the Tube to the Tower Hill station. Of course they’d be in public. He’d been looking around for any signs of a tail, but had yet to discover any. Certainly his phone was being tracked which was why Eden had sent the package.

Clever.

However, when Cesar handed his ticket for admission over to the Yeoman Warder, he looked around and his heart sank.

Standing by a souvenir kiosk, eating a Mars Bar, was Cesc.

Of course it was Cesc. Eden would have sent Godiva.

“The Crown Jewels are my favorite. You want to go see the Crown Jewels?” Cesc asked as he finished his Mars Bar and and licked his fingers.

“Sure,” Cesar agreed and followed the energetic man toward the Crown Jewels exhibit.

"Did you ever see the Minion movie? Where those little yellow guys tried to steal the Queen's crown? Like, why would you steal that? She'd got stuff worth so much more."

"I think it was supposed to be symbolic," Cesar commented, having seen the film a time or two.

"Yeah, I guess so," Cesc said and chattered on about the jewels. "The real crown is only taken out at the coronation so she wouldn't even have been wearing it so the minion could steal it, really..."

They arrived at the entrance to the exhibit and Cesc glanced around and pulled Cesar in to the toilets. 

Cesc opened up an pouch and dropped his cell phone in, gesturing for Cesar to do the same.

"Are you being watched?" Cesc asked as he sealed the bag. It was a silencing pouch he'd borrowed from the tech department. It also blocked GPS. He dropped the pouch in the trash can and gestured Cesar to follow him out of the toilets.

"Not that I can tell, but I can't believe they're not tracking me."

"Me as well," Cesc said. "I've been let off with a warning, but Mourniho isn't fooled for a second. He's sure you or I or both of us know where Eden is."

"I don't, actually," Cesar said as they joined the queue to view the Crown Jewels.

"Though he might get in touch," Cesc said as he watched Cesar carefully. he'd read the disappointment on Cesar's face when he'd arrived and realized who'd sent the candy.

"I don't know," Cesar said.

"He will," Cesc assured him.

Cesar didn't respond, but he was grateful for Cesc's kindness. 

"So...what now?" Cesc asked.

"We keep our heads down and wait for orders?"

Cesc gave him a look.

Cesar gazed at the exhibit before him. "What else can we do?"

"Like...COOL SHIT," Cesc said in a slight whine.

"Cesc," Cesar said and offered him one of the Mars Bars he'd brought with him. "We can't do anything until we..."

"Get Mourinho off our backs?"

"Yeah," Cesar said and saw the guard giving them a glare. He shoved his Mars Bar into his pocket.

Cesc sighed as he did the same. "We can't be done. This can't be over. This was all too good. We got the bad guys. Eden was invaluable. Didn't we get into this business to get the bad guys?"

"Yeah," Cesar agreed.

"It's almost like Mourniho would rather we sit quietly and do what we're told and the hell with actually stopping any bad guys."

"He's probably just here to clear up the PR nightmare we've created," Cesar sighed. "We did break a lot of laws."

"What's the purpose of a law if it gets in the way of us stopping like super bad guys?"

Cesar couldn't disagree. They finished with the exhibit and made their way back out into the pale light of the cloudy afternoon.

Across the yard of the Tower, a very familiar figure was approaching them.

"Dad," Cesar said with a smile. "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you. We need to take a trip."

"I can't go anywhere," Cesar reminded them. "My passport has been confiscated."

"Well, it's a good thing we have some spares. You coming Cesc?"

"Heck YEAH."


	22. "Me and Jose go all the way back"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cesar arrives in Barcelona to find his ride is a familiar face.

A year ago, Cesar never would have imagined he'd be getting on a plane to Spain with a fake passport after having lied to his boss about taking a long weekend for a stress break he'd gotten a fake doctor's note to state the necessity of said break. Cesar's raison d'etre was to stop crime, not commit them.

But even as he passed through passport control at the Montpelier airport, "Enjoy your stay in France, Monsieur Chavez," Cesar wasn't entirely sure this was actually happening.

In the arrivals hall, Cesar saw a familiar figure with a ball cap pulled down over his face with a sign that bore his alias.

"Bonjour Monsieur. Can I take your baggage?" asked a heavily accented French voice.

Cesar passed over his small case and the man took it, leading the way to a black Mercedes Benz.

He opened the door to the back seat and Cesar climbed in.

The driver got behind the wheel. "You are going to Barcelona, oui?"

"Eden, they don't have me bugged."

A small smile appeared on the face of the driver. 

"I am sorry, Monsieur, I believe you mistake me, my name is René Artois."

Cesar leaned forward in his seat and laid his chin on Eden's shoulder. Pressing his face into the side of Eden's head, he let out a sigh of contentment.

"You're okay."

Eden just smiled as he leaned into Cesar. "You should never doubt me."

"I don't," Cesar assured him. "Other people have a tendency to let me down, though."

"We need to have a word about your new boss."

"Uh, yeah."

"I take it he has no intention of honoring the deal we made with Conte?"

"He wants you to come in so we can talk it all over, but the fact that you ran from custody doesn't make things look good for you." Cesar parroted the words of Mourinho with a healthy dose of sarcasm.

"Well, our deal did say that if I got caught, I was on my own. I took Conte at his word," Eden reminded him.

"Exactly."

They drove on and Eden merged onto the highway southbound.

"We headed to Barcelona?" Cesar correctly guessed.

"Your dad didn't tell you?"

"I'm on a need to know basis, apparently," Cesar chuckled.

"He doesn't trust Mourinho any more than I do," Eden said.

"We have anything more than a gut feeling right now?" Cesar asked.

"No," Eden said. "But I didn't get this far by ignoring my gut. And neither did your dad."

* * * *

"I want to be an international criminal playboy when I grow up," Cesc said as he laid on Eden's deck and sipped a chocolate martini.

Pepe chuckled. "I don't think international criminal playboys drink spiked chocolate milk."

"Gin martinis are gross," Cesc said as he licked the whipped cream off the rim of the glass.

The front door opened and Pepe glanced over his shoulder to seen Eden and Cesar had arrived, hand in hand. They were a bit earlier than Pepe had expected. He'd thought sure they've have stopped at a hotel for a shag.

“I think Cesc is moving in,” Pepe said as he embraced his son.

“No,” Eden said as he glanced at the candy wrappers on the coffee table and the martini mixings left on the kitchen counter.

“Not looking for a protege?”

“Not right now,” Eden said. “Let’s get dinner.”

They made their way through the cool evening air through the winding streets east of the Ramblas. There were a number of flashy tapas bars that catered to tourists, but Eden brought them down a dark alley to a cafe which really looked like it didn’t care if you came there or not.

They entered and Eden was greeted warmly by the host who he spoke to in perfect Catalan. Cesar was continually amazed at the charm and intelligence of Eden. He took time to look you in they eye, speak to your in your own language, and his smile could charm the most skeptical heart.

There was a young waiter who was eyeing them as they sat down. He was standing by the counter, right in Cesar’s sight line, and never took his eyes off Eden as another waiter, a young woman, took their drink orders.

“I think you have an admirer,” Cesar said under his breath as the waiter left to get them bottles of the house wine.

Eden didn’t even look as he laid a reassuring hand on Cesar’s thigh. “Are you sure he’s not glaring at me because he’s jealous I’m with you?”

Cesar flushed slightly. Jealousy was not a good look.

“Are we sure he’s not a government agent here to kill us quietly?” Pepe asked and Cesar could see him itching for his rocket launcher.

Cesc, ever tactful, turned to look. “That kid is not a government agent.”

“You’re a government agent.”

“Well, yeah…” Cesc said. It was true. He was a government agent and an international criminal playboy in training. He should act like it.

Once the wine had been served, Eden told the waitress to bring them the special of the day. She left trays of olives and other tapas.

Cesc, who’d taken a large drink of wine, got up from the table.

“Loo’s in the back,” Eden directed him as he turned his attention back to Cesar.

But to the astonishment of the rest of the table, Cesc didn’t head to the loo, or even the shop next door for a chocolate fix. He went over to the waiter who’d been eyeing Eden and sidled up to him.

“What the…” Pepe said, trying to watch out of the corner of his eye as Cesc started to flirt with the young man.

Cesar had to bite his lip. “You know, every time I think he’s nothing but squirrely little chocoholic, he goes and does something that reminds me how he finished the top of his class at the academy.”

Eden took and olive. “He’s the best kind of operative. You look at him once, dismiss him, and he’s off with the family jewels in the bottom of his rucksack you’d assumed was full of Toblerone.

“Well, they’re under the Toblerone.”

Another round of tapas was on the table before Cesc returned.

"His name is Danilo , he's at Uni and he gets off at 1 if Eden's interested," Cesc said as he sat down and helped himself to tapas.

"Not a government agent?" Pepe asked, amused.

"Not even close," Cesc grinned.

They enjoyed their meal and took a few hours to release the tension of the last week. Pepe had been in touch with the whole crew and they were all safe and accounted for. David Luiz had asked when the next heist was going to be.

Eden smiled. "Maybe sooner than you think."

Cesar raised an eyebrow. "Why does that statement make me nervous?"

"Because everything makes you nervous, dear," Eden said and kissed Cesar on the cheek. "We need to see an old friend."

*

Pepe reluctantly agreed to leave Eden and Cesar to meet their contact and took Cesc away to avoid looking like a herd on a school trip.

Eden and Cesar strolled through the lively streets of Barcelona, integrating into the crowd of tourists and locals, all looking for a fun night out.

"So who is this contact?" Cesar asked for about the third time as Eden was not forthcoming.

Eden smiled. "Do you ever wonder that perhaps I don't always tell you things not because I've got something to hide, but because it's in your best interest not to know?"

"You do realize that by not telling me things it just gets my anxiety up and maybe that's even worse than me knowing?"

Eden pulled Cesar's hand to his lips and kissed it. "It's an old friend of your new boss with some information that just might prove to be useful to us."

"Perhaps he's not quiet as by-the-book as he'd like us to believe?"

"Perhaps."

They entered a bar which was well past the tourist areas which someone with discerning tastes might have labeled "seedy". Eden led Cesar to the back corner of the bar, ignored by all the patrons who were fixedly watching the Champions League final on the dusty TV behind the bar. There weren't a lot of Real Madrid fans in the Catalan capital, but football was football. And they probably had money on their rivals to win it as not many people expected Liverpool to pull off the upset. 

Eden pulled out a chair at a table where a lone man sat, watching the match and didn't look up when Cesar took the other seat, careful not to get between the man and the match.

Eden tactfully waited for a break in the play before speaking. "Looks like Madrid are going to take this."

The man took a drink and leaned back in his chair. "Real Madrid are capable of throwing away even the biggest of leads," he said.

"Cesar, this is Riccy Carvalho. He knew your new boss way back when."

"How did you know him?"

Riccy eyed Cesar with a chuckle. He rubbed at his hairline, which was way past receding, "Oh, son, me and Jose go all the way back."


	23. Dads Didn't Talk About Getting Laid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Riccy has the info and Cesc has breakfast.
> 
> (I'm not doing Nano this year, but I've challenged myself to 500 words a day, which is why this is back and rolling- fingers crossed I can keep up the pace!)

Riccy refused to talk until after the Champions League final was over. The bar, in general, was unhappy to see the Madrid club win, but Riccy collected his winnings from a man in the back room and led them out into the dark streets.

"Jose came from the MI5 division in Northern Ireland, didn't he?" Cesar asked, trying to get the conversation started with the quiet informant. "Was that where you knew him?"

"I did, actually, but we go back much further than that," Riccy said. "I met him when he was fresh out of the Academy and sent to work at a branch of the MI5 in Porto."

"He's of Portuguese descent?"

"Yes, and he's fluent. They were tracking a drugs ring that was smuggling through Porto and sending the product to the UK in the bags of vacationing Brits. They'd unwittingly carry the drugs through and then the dealers would steal the baggage at the airport, retrieve the drugs, and sell them on."

"So did he help stop them?"

"He did. Got him a transfer to London where he was soon an invaluable member of the drugs enforcement team."

Cesar wondered how any of this was supposed to help them.

"He brought me with him," Riccy said. "Said I was his invaluable assistant. I was flattered. Would do anything for him."

There was a long pause which Cesar managed not to fill. He glanced at Eden who'd been silent up to this point, and he smiled at him.

"But then I began to realize that Jose was beginning to live a better life than the average MI5 agent. We do alright, but at the end of the day, we're government employees living in one of the most expensive cities in the world. So I started to follow up on some of his targets. Some leads he'd said were dead ends- people he'd closed files on. And I discovered that Jose was taking payoff from some of the biggest drug smugglers in Europe. He'd started it back in Porto, apparently busting some small fish and letting the larger players off the hook by letting them know when and where the busts were about to go down. He's been working with them ever since."

"But in Northern Ireland he was working the anti-terrorism unit."

"Yeah. I tipped off our boss that Jose may be taking payoffs. Jose denied everything and a quiet internal investigation turned up nothing concrete. Jose was transferred to Northern Ireland and I was fired when a drug informant accused me of demanding a payoff."

The partner scorned.

"So did Jose stop taking the payoffs?"

"He lives in a five bedroom flat in Chelsea. What do you think?" Eden pointed out quietly.

"He's got an immaculate record," Cesar said. He'd checked the man out himself.

"He knows all the right people to keep happy. Quite frankly, he's built himself a nice little criminal empire right in the middle of the law enforcement community. He has dozens of people working for him."

Cesar looked at Eden. "Wonder if he'd like a new assistant."

"I can get you a few names," Riccy said as they arrived outside an older and slightly dilapidated apartment block.

"We'd appreciate it," Eden said as he casually slid an envelope of cash into Riccy's pocket. "Thank you for your help."

"That asshole ended my career," Riccy said, his eyes flashing. "I'd do anything to take him down."

*

"Wow," Cesar said as he sat down on the edge of Eden's bed, reading the list of names that Riccy had sent them after they'd left. Cesc and Pepe had already been in bed when they'd arrived back and they'd quietly slipped into the bedroom.

"You know those guys?"

"Some of them," Cesar said. "Juan Mata has worked in our office for years."

"Do you think we could get him onside about Jose?" Eden asked as he crawled up the bed behind Cesar and leaned his head on Cesar's shoulder, wrapping his arms around him.

"I have no idea," Cesar admitted. "I had no idea he'd be the kind of guy to take a pay off in the first place."

"Morals can be flexible for the right price," Eden commented as he pulled the phone out of Cesar's hand and kissed his neck.

"Do you think my morals are flexible?" Cesar asked, even as he closed his eyes, reveling in Eden's touch.

"No," Eden answered without hesitation. "You know what's right, and you do understand that doing what's right means going outside the rules."

"The rules can be wrong," Cesar conceded.

"Exactly," Eden said as he tugged Cesar down to the bed, capturing his mouth in a deep kiss.

Cesar was so right and good.

And made Eden want to be a better man to deserve him.

*

Cesc yawned and eyed Eden's coffee maker. What was this thing, anyway? Space coffee? Who made a coffee machine that was this complicated, anyway? The whole point of coffee was drinking it when your brain was not functioning?

"How late were they up?" Pepe asked, shuffling in the room and expertly pushing a couple of buttons, and the contraption sprang to life.

"I put my earbuds in not long after they got home," Cesc admitted. "Honestly, Cesar, your dad in in the house."

Pepe chuckled. "Mostly I'm jealous. I haven't gotten laid that good this decade."

Cesc blushed. Even if Pepe wasn't his dad, he was a dad, and dads didn't talk about getting laid.

"Suppose they'll sleep late so I can go up to the Camp Nou and take a stadium tour and buy a kit?" Cesc wondered as he peered in the fridge for food.

"We're trying to save all of our asses and you want to go buy a Messi kit?"

"What?" Cesc asked, reappearing with a plate of fruit, meats, and cheese. He'd spied some bread on the table. "I was totally going to get an Iniesta."

"As long as it's not a Suarez," Pepe allowed.

"He hasn't bit anyone in years," Cesc protested as he shoved a slice of ham in his mouth.

They were just finishing their coffee when Eden emerged from the bedroom, looking fresh and pressed like he was off to an important meeting. Cesc glanced down at the smudge of nutella on the front of his shirt and realized he had a lot to learn about being a international criminal playboy.

"Have a good night?" Pepe asked cheerfully as Eden went to get coffee.

"We did, yes," Eden said with no trace of shame. "We also had a productive one. When Cesar gets out of the shower, we'll share it with you."

"You get the dirt you were looking for?"

"Indeed."

Cesar joined them and together he and Eden shared what Riccy had told them about Jose.

"So he's out to get us because he realizes that we're just the sort of people who'd be out to get him," Cesar summarized when they were done.

"Juan?" Cesc said, still stuck on that revelation. "He seems so...wholesome."

"Which is why he's the perfect operative. No one suspects," Cesar said, as he too had been friends with Juan for years.

"So what's the plan?" Pepe asked, knowing Eden would always have something up his sleeve.

Eden sipped his coffee thoughtfully. "I think this is something we're going to have to attack from the outside in. Everyone knows Cesc and Cesar and knows they're on thin ice so attempting to cozy up to Juan right now and trying to get him to dish dirt on Jose is never going to work."

"So from the outside...?"

"We need to discover who he's getting payoff from and find our way in there. Obviously Cesar and Cesc can't take this on, but you and I could certainly find our way in."

Pepe nodded. "And we have a few eager assistants who've texted more than wants to just let us know that should we need anything, they'd be more than happy to help."

"Get Fernando on the line. We'll need him up first."


	24. A man needs his secrets, darling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fernando makes a friend.
> 
> (Someone requested some Barca boys...)

Fernando was surfing the dark web, collecting data and making friends. He was well known in certain circles, but he'd taken the time to carefully build up a new presence and had so far gone undetected. While communities who were involved in illegal activities are always reluctant to admit new, unknown members, Fernando has been around long enough to see where the weak links were, and who to befriend early.

He'd been online for a week now, ever since Eden had called with his assignment. There was person calling himself (and Fernando had little doubt it was a man) Bobo69-2-47 who had already spent many long evenings chatting with Fernando. He was in a group that purported to know the opioid trade in London well, and Bobo had let slip there was a drop off happening in the Docklands the following evening.

"Sounds like a sweet deal, how did you get in on that?"

"Oh, just a friend and all."

"Cool, sounds like an easy way to make a few quid."

"It's not as easy as that, really."

Fernando rolled his eyes and sipped a Redbull. He was hoping the kid would ask him to be in on whatever this was, wanting to impress his new online friend, but he wasn't quite as dumb as he was hoping. Through intelligence gained from Riccy and things Cesar and Cesc had been able to dig up through MI5, he was fairly certain he was on to a major crime syndicate that was supplying drugs through London. And who hadn't been caught at anything due to a couple of mishandled interrogations that let a couple of guilty parties go free. Mishandled by Juan Mata.

"Well, if you can handle it, lol"

"True, lol."

"Maybe fancy meeting up for a pint, afters? You can tell me all about it?"

There was a pause. Shit, had Fernando pushed too hard?

"Sure. Yeah."

Bobo sent through an address to a pub in the Docklands. Fernando ran it through his maps program and realized it was near the London City Airport. Hello...

Fernando sent information through to Eden, and logged off for the evening. 

*

"Fernando has a meeting."

"Are we sure we trust Fernando to go in?" Cesar wondered as Fernando was not an agent and not trained for much more than Fortnite marathons.

"I think he's best for it," Eden countered. "He's real. He knows the dark web and he's not going to stumble in there, looking like a cop, and scare people off."

"I look like a cop?"

"You do," Eden kissed the side of his face as Cesar leaned over his shoulder to peer at the computer screen.

Cesar and Cesc had come back from their trip, bright eyed and ready to prove themselves worth to the job. They'd taken on a job listening to wire taps from a crooked stock broker without complaint. Heads down and humble. 

Eden had slipped back in the country midweek, setting back up camp in the same Berkshire estate they'd been in before. 

"When are the owners back from the Canary Islands?" Cesar had wondered when he'd pulled up after work.

"They've seen the light and decided to just stay on," Eden said. "They've sold up."

"The new owner doesn't mind us camping out?"

"Well, since it's me. No," Eden smiled.

"How much money do you actually have?" Cesar asked, knowing the estate had to be worth multi-millions. 

"Maybe it's best we don't share everything with each other just yet," Eden had said.

"Okay. Fernando meets his online buddy tomorrow evening. What else do we have in place?" Cesar said.

"I've got Iker on standby. I'm wondering if we want to set up shop somewhere in the Docklands. A business that Fernando happens to know that would be amenable to having some product distributed through for a nice share of the profits."

"We're getting into drugs trade?" Cesar asked, wondering if this was a compromise too far.

Eden shrugged. "We bring it in and see that it gets sold out for a profit back. We can sell it to ourselves and dispose of the drugs."

"I don't want to ask how we're paying for this, do I?"

"A man needs his secrets, darling."

*

Fernando was sitting at at table in the corner of the bar Bobo had suggested half a hour before their agreed meeting time. A keen student, he'd been reading up on detectives and how they worked. His form tutors had lamented that he'd never accomplish anything if he never learned to apply himself, but he'd aced his A-Levels in five subjects and promptly dropped out of school. It wasn't that he didn't want to learn things, it was just that the way schools wanted to teach you didn't work for him. However, unlike most of his peers, instead of eschewing school and then never actually learning anything, he'd taken it upon himself to learn a lot.

He was surveying the bar. Taking in the locals and knowing that the presence of a sullen looking young man in a hoodie working on a pint wasn't much cause for comment.

He'd told Bobo he'd be wearing a green hoodie and Bobo said he'd have on red trainers.

At about a quarter past the hour, a slightly hassled looking young man in red trainers came hustling into the bar.

"Alright, Bojan?" the bartender called when he saw him, taking in his state and raising an eyebrow.

"Alright," Bojan replied with a nod. "Usual."

"Right you are."

Bojan glanced around, and when his eyes landed on Fernando, he smiled, looking pleasantly surprised.

Fernando smiled back. He knew he was fairly attractive despite his freckles. To be fair, Bojan didn't look like your normal basement dwelling computer nerd, either. He had a thatch of dark, slightly unruly hair and big brown eyes. Meeting up with online friends could be a real crap shoot.

"Are you Tornado?" Bojan asked as he carried his pint across.

"Bobo?"

"Bojan, actually," he said with a slight flush and offered his hand. Please, do not let the guys at the bar have heard him use that name.

"Nice to meet you," Fernando said as he stood and offered his hand to shake, but not his real name. If Bojan pressed he could always roll out the excuse that he didn't care to use the name his birth mother had given him. (His mother was actually lovely and lived in Devon, but it really wasn't cool to buy a house for your mum and get her set up with free broadband and Sky)

"Sorry I'm a bit late. Things got a little dicey."

"Not as easy as all that then?" Fernando asked with a knowing look.

Bojan shrugged. "Well, it all worked out. You have to think on your feet, you do."

"Of course," Fernando said, noting that Bojan was trying to force a bit of East London into his speech patterns. If he threw any Cockney at him, Fernando might have to leave, con or no con.

They drank their pints and talked over some new online games they were playing. Fernando was into Fortnite though Bojan admitted he still really liked Minecraft. "I like the battle games, but sometimes you just want to build something."

When they finished with their pints, Fernando said. "Want to take a walk?" He'd quickly realized that at Bojan's local, he was never going to get him to talk about much more than life online and perhaps the local football club. The kid was a Barcelona fan.

"Yeah, sure," Bojan said. They rose, and Bojan waved to the bartender and a few others as they headed out.

"I'm actually a bit hungry, maybe we could grab a bite?" Fernando asked as they emerged into the warm June evening.

"Sure, you feel like a Nandos?"

"Always," Fernando said with a smile. 

"So, Tornado," Bojan said once they were several streets away from the pub, "were you serious when you said you might want to get involved in the trade? We could always use a few new couriers, and with the coppers up our backends, it's always nice to have a fresh face we can trust."

"You trust me?" Fernando asked. 

"Sure, yeah," Bojan said. "I mean, I'm fairly certain you're not actually called Tornado, but I'm sure you have your reasons. We all have our reasons and we're entitled to a bit of privacy."

"Well, I got an uncle who's opening up a little shop near here. Would that be the kind of place you might want to run some product through?"

"What kind of shop."

"You know, newsagents, groceries and stuff."

"And he wouldn't mind?"

"Well, I'm sure he'd want a cut, too."

"I'll have to talk to my boss," Bojan said, but inside he was excited. Hadn't Carles said just the other day that they needed a steady spot to run things through with a reputable from that the coppers wouldn't suspect. It was almost too good.

"Yeah, of course. But I could use a cash flow that, well, the less work done, the better, if you know what I mean?"

"More time for Fortnite?" Bojan asked with a chuckle.

"Absolutely."


	25. Wait, man, I need an espresso

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bojan gets his ass chewed and a plan comes together

"You did what?" Carles asked as he stared down at Bojan who was looking like a puppy who'd just took a wee on your carpet and wanted to be praised for it.

Bojan's face fell as he watched Carles angrily shove a hand through his curly locks. "Well...I mean...he seems like a really nice guy and all..."

"You just invited some guy you met online...."

"Tornado," Bojan supplied helpfully.

Carles gave him a fresh glare. "You invited Tornado to help you run our stock. Without even talking to me about it."

"His uncle has a shop in the docklands! He said we could use it for storage and distribution. Wasn't you just saying that we needed a spot?"

"We have the warehouse."

From a dark corner of the office, a voice spoke. "But a shop would be better. It looks well suspicious that we have so many people in and out of this place on foot. We might as well put up a fucking sign that says we have drugs."

"Right!" Bojan chirped.

"Don't you even take his side, Xavi."

"I agree that you should have talked to us," Xavi said as he stood up and crossed over to the desk where Carles sat. He leaned on the edge of it and looked Bojan in the eye. "Loose lips sink ships, Bo."

Bojan frowned. "What does that even mean?"

"It means," Carles slammed his hands on the desk and stood up with a growl, "that some day you're going to run your fucking mouth to the wrong fucking person and get us all nailed."

The color drained out of Bojan's face. "I...I...I didn't tell him much. Honestly. Not a location or any one's name. He only knows me and for all he knows I could be completely full of shit." Bojan was babbling. "I talked to him for ages. He's cool. You guys totally can meet with him before we decide anything."

"He might wet himself, Carles," Xavi commented, unmoved by Bojan's fear.

"He needs to keep his fucking mouth shut," Carles came around the desk and for a moment, Bojan was sure he was about to get hit.

But Carles stopped in front of him and leaned against the edge of the desk. "Bo, we have a really sweet deal here. We have someone on the inside who looks the other way, and we are making shed loads of cash. I understand this can make us a bit complacent."

Bojan nodded, eyes impossibly wide, braced to duck if Carles came at him.

"I still think we should at least talk to this...Tornado," Xavi said.

"Could I please finish terrorizing him before you get rational?" Carles said.

"I thought we were doing good cop/bad cop?" Xavi said.

"Is that how this works? I thought I beat him up and then you came and sorted him out later?"

"No, we go back and forth, you're mean, I'm nice and he's either terrified of you enough to never do it again, or grateful enough to me to never do it again out of loyalty."

"We should really talk about these things beforehand," Carles sighed. "Fine, yes, get ahold of this Tornado and we can meet him in his uncle's shop."

* * * *

"We need a shop," Tornado...er, Fernando said as he walked into Eden's house the following morning.

"I'll call Iker. How soon?"

"Friday."

"You do realize it's Tuesday, right?" Eden said even as he dialed Iker.

"I know. I really didn't think Bojan would want me to meet this quickly."

"You're either really trustworthy..."

"...or they're desperate," Fernando confirmed as he threw away his Mountain Dew can and made for Eden's espresso maker.

"Iker. Friday. Meet us at the London City Airport light rail station by noon."

There was a pause and Eden nodded into the phone. "Friday. I know. I'm bringing Fernando and calling David on the way. Get in as many guys as you trust. Yes. I know. I hate you too."

Eden hung up the phone and grabbed his keys.

"Wait, man, I need an espresso."

"We'll drive through a Starbucks!"

* * * *

"Have you even secured the purchase of this property, yet?" Iker asked as Eden let them in the back door of the corner retail space, a good size for a newsagents, just up the road from a rail station and near a number of apartment blocks. There was another shop around the corner, who'd be unhappy to see them move in, but Eden wasn't looking to set up a profitable business. They'd overprice the sweets and be open awkward hours. The other shop would think they were a joke and no one would raise any complaints.

"I wrote a check to the letting agent," Eden said. "They're happy to have us get started."

Fernando and David Luiz trailed behind as Iker made lists and Eden took notes on his phone.

"We're gonna have to do plastering, aren't we?" David lamented as this job appeared to involve a lot less get away driving and a lot more selling of packets of crisps. Hopefully it came with all the snacks he could eat. "Did Eden already ask you about taking shifts in the shop?"

"Yeah," Fernando sighed and leaned against a bare stud. "I told him I could work late shifts as long as I could be on my laptop and he stocked in Red Bull."

"Right? If I wanted to work in a shop..."

"David?" Eden interrupted their moaning. "I'm calling in an order at the construction warehouse in Barking. Rent a truck and make the pick up. Fernando, go with him."

"Right on, Boss," David said, pondering how big of a truck he was going to need to do this job. Better get a 3.5 tonne to be safe...

"A transit van should do it," Eden continued and as David's face fell, he amended. "Or whatever you think is best."

He and Fernando took off before Eden changed his mind.

"He's going to turn up in an articulated lorry with more cargo space than this shop," Iker warned him.

"I know. But it makes him happy."

* * * *

Cesar sat in his flat, frustrated he couldn't do more to help with this con. He knew that he was being watched and taking an hour train right to Berkshire every evening was not going to go unnoticed. And Eden couldn't be seen to enter his flat. He couldn't even go an visit the shop Iker was building because what reason did he have to be in the Docklands on a Wednesday evening?

"There's this great new restaurant in the Docklands I think we should try," Pepe said as Cesar moped.

"Seriously?"

"Sure. I mean, they're constructing a newsagents' next door, but the dim sum is excellent."

"Certainly they can't construct all night."

"Iker got four hours of sleep last night. They have to have it finish, inspected, and stocked by noon Friday."

"This is one of those times I'm incredibly thankful I can't be seen anywhere near the project," Cesar said with a laugh as Pepe grabbed the keys and they headed to the tube.

* * * *

The restaurant was actually pretty good. As they took a walk through the neighborhood after their meal, Pepe looked around. “There are a lot of nice looking buildings around here. Maybe I should lease a place nearby. Not only a center of operations, but also give you an excuse to be in the area.”

“That’s a good plan. I wonder if there’s anything available in the building we’re already using,” Cesar asked as they rounded the corner to the street where “News And Nosh” was located. 

“I’m sure Eden knows a guy,” Pepe agreed as, double checking that they weren’t being tailed, ducked into an alley which led to the back entrance of the shop. There was a truck parked in the narrow space. The lights were on and music could be heard.

As he had predicted, David and Fernando were hanging plasterboard, more or less efficiently. Iker was on hand to doctor up any of the dings they left in the surface and considering most of the wall was going to be covered by the stock on the shelves it wasn't really a pressing matter. They needed a shop to front some drug running. Not a high end boutique to impress the posh clients.

"I need a Crunchie and the Daily Mail," Cesar said as he stuck his head around the corner and found Eden coated in plaster and looking annoyed at the counter space. There was brown paper over the windows and Iker was wiring the lighting on a ladder.

"We're out of Crunchies and no one with any sense reads the Daily Mail," Eden shot back even though he was smiling to see him.

Cesar saw Cesc's head peek up over the counter and disappear immediately.

"Cesc! You can't be seen here!"

"They needed help!"

"He knows plumbing," Iker said. "I was desperate."

"You know plumbing?" Pepe and Cesar said at the same time.

"My dad was a builder. He made me help him on school holidays."

"I've seriously got to stop underestimating you," Cesar said as Cesc disappeared again. A moment later, a Mars Bar came sliding across the counter.

With a laugh, Cesar took it. He helped Eden install the counter racks while Pepe helped Iker finish the wiring.

"We're way ahead of you on a flat for Pepe. We need someone to be David's uncle who runs this place."

"You want my dad? Will anyone know him?"

"I doubt it. He was only background for the Royal Wedding op, and unless someone connects it in any way to you..."

"Which means I can't visit him here, can I. If he's running the shop, I can't be seen here."

"I know it's killing you to sit on the sideline, but you'll get your chance. Once we get Jose out of our hair, we can get back to proper cons," Eden ran his hand along Cesar's arm.

"You think MI5 is going to let us get back to our original scheme if we get rid of Jose?"

"We root out the rot inside the organization with our talents, they'll be insane not to take us back."


	26. You gonna finish your chips?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eden's been spotted. Cesc needs lunch.

“Azpilicueta, in my office,” came the call from Mourinho. Curt and abrupt much like the man himself, Cesar found himself staring at a dead phone as he processed the demand.

Cesc appeared. “Boss?”

“You think…”

Cesar gave him a glare that made Cesc sink back down into his cubicle.

It was nothing Cesar told himself as he got up to go to Mourinho’s office. The man seem to be in a perpetual bad mood. Probably had some new, excessively boring assignment to deliver to him. “We need to you watch the paint peel in this bathroom stall in Aberdeen to see if ISIS has any attacks planned for 2045.”

Cesar paused in the doorway to Jose’s office.

“Shut the door,” Mourinho snapped, not looking up from his computer even as he spoke. Let me make it perfectly clear that I think you’re only fit for paint peel duty.

Cesar closed the door behind him and stood next to the chair in front of Jose’s desk.

“Sit.”

Cesar sat.

There was a standoff. Jose was waiting for Cesar to ask what he wanted so he could be angry at being interrupted, but Cesar had worked for too many of Jose’s kind in his career to give him the satisfaction. Instead, Cesar looked at the family pictures on Jose’s desk and exuded an air of patience.

Finally, Jose looked at him. “Hazard is in London.”

“He is?” Cesar’s jaw fell perfectly. In truth, he was shocked that Jose knew. “How? Where? Who’s on this?”

Jose’s eyes narrowed. “You were in the Docklands last evening.”

“Yeah...I was having Dim Sum with my dad. He’s thinking of getting a flat in the area,” Cesar said, his face a picture of puzzled confusion. They were going to have to find someone else to be David’s uncle now Pepe was on Jose’s radar. No worries. Shop opened tomorrow.

“I thought your father had retired to Portugal.”

Of course Jose knew that. “He did. But in light of recent events in my life, he wants to get a place in London so he can hover. As his only son he worries.” Cesar’s eyes held Jose’s, daring the older man to question Pepe’s fatherly concern. Man will blow you up with a rocket launcher on my say-so without asking a single question, Cesar’s eyes said. “Was Hazard seen in the Docklands? SHit, just like that bastard to be hovering right under my nose. Who is on this?”

Jose eyed him a moment longer. “I’ve got Juan Mata looking into it. He works in the area on my drugs task force. He’s got eyes and ears on the ground. If Hazard is making contacts in the area, we’ll know.”

“Good,” Cesar nodded. “Does he need help? You know I know Hazard better than….”

“We know Hazard got away under your watch twice,” Jose said.

Cesar sighed in frustration. “Look, neither of those had anything to do with me. I caught him both times. Someone else let him get away.”

Jose eyed him for a long moment. Cesar knew that Jose suspected him of still being in touch with Eden and that he and Eden had at the very least become friends while working together on the Royal Wedding case. He might even have an inkling that they were more, but he had nothing to go on and he knew it.

"Look. I know I'm on trouble for every thing that went down. I was wrong to trust Hazard, and I know that. But he made me look like a complete ass. And I just want a chance to make this write. Let me help Juan."

"Okay," Jose said curtly. "But he's in charge of this op. You don't do anything, and I mean anything without running it past him, first."

"Of course, sir," Cesar said. "Thank you, sir."

Jose waved Cesar out of the office. Go see Juan."

Cesar made a break for the door. He was back in the game.

*

"Jose asked you to what?" Cesc muttered as he and Cesar headed for lunch. 

"Help Juan find Eden."

"Did you tell him you needed your trusty sidekick???"

"I thought you were doing the plumbing."

Cesc pouted, but as they stepped on the elevator, Juan jogged up to catch them.

"You headed to lunch? I thought maybe we could start a conversation about Hazard," Juan said and glanced at Cesc.

"Cesc knows a lot about Hazard, too," Cesar assured him. "And he owes me a Nandos."

Cesc made a face. "I'm not buying Juan a Nandos, too."

"Yes you are. And he wants extra chips," Cesar said with a wink to Juan.

They chatted amicably about football and the weather as they made the short walk to the local Nandos. After placing their order (Cesc paid) they sat at a table in the corner.

"So, you're eager to catch Hazard," Juan said.

"Hell yes I am," Cesar retorted and then glanced around lowering his voice. "Juan, you know what he did to me, right? Lured me and Conte in on the promise of helping us out. And he lulled me into a state of total acceptance of him. I actually believed he was on our side. I never once imagined he was just using us to finally make his escape."

Cesc was impressed. Cesar acted like he hadn't spent half an hour in the cupboard of the shop they were supposed to be finishing making out. 

"He's such a devious bastard," Cesc chimed in.

"You were working with him pretty closely," Juan said.

"We were," Cesc agreed. "And he's ridiculously charming. Like you would follow him the to ends of the earth."

"Which is why he's such a good con-man," Cesar said with a sigh. "He makes you think he'd move heaven and earth to help you and then then next thing you know he's on the back of a lorry headed to Luton airport and you're left looking like a total chump."

There was a pause as the waiter dropped off their lunches.

"What do you suppose he's been doing in the Docklands?" Juan wondered as they made progress on their chicken and chips. 

Cesar shook his head. "He's never been seen in that area that we know." And as soon as I can get hold of him, he's not going to be seen in that area again. "But I can get you the list of known contacts and we can start with that."

"Who saw him?" Cesc wondered as he poured peri peri on his chips. "I mean, who reported he was there?"

"We have some contacts in the area, working on the drugs problem."

"I didn't know you worked on the drugs task force," Cesc said as he licked his fingers. Cesar knew how he underestimated Cesc. He came across like a complete dork. How was this Cambridge grad also an adept plumber and general genius?

"Well, I have in the past. I still have contacts."

"That's a big department. Why did you get moved out?" Cesar asked.

Juan sighed. "I lost a couple of big players that should have gotten put away."

Cesar looked at him and saw nothing but professional regret. Honestly, all three of them had futures in the dramatic arts. According to Riccy, Juan had some major pay outs from his role in "messing up" those take downs.

"It looks like your interests of redemption and my interests of redemption might coincide here," Cesar said carefully. He felt a stab of regret that he might end up taking Juan down with Jose. He needed to find a way to get Juan to turn on Jose. But how? Jose, despite letting him take the fall for a few things, Jose seemed to stand by Juan. And he was well paid.

"They could be," Juan agreed and met Cesar's eyes. 

Juan needed something to lose, Cesar realized.

"You gonna finish your chips?" Cesc asked as his plate was clean and Juan still had a pile.

"Yes," Juan said and gave him a glare.

Cesc beamed. "Who wants frozen yogurt for dessert?"


	27. Someone was going to have to call Eden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An uncle is found. Chocolates are sold.

Pepe still took the flat in the building as originally planned, but come Friday morning, they were still looking for an uncle for Fernando to run the shop. 

Iker and Fernando were unboxing sweets for the shelves when Eden arrived. "Stop eating the stock," Eden said as he spied a pile of wrappers on the counter.

"Cesc was here early to finish the bathroom," Iker said. "He took his payment in Curly Wurlies."

Eden shook his head. "Once we're open, Cesc is never allowed to be here."

"Cesar said the same thing. Since and Pepe have been spotted, we can't take any more chances," Iker said as he finished filling in the rows of chewing gum. 

"So, who have we got to run this place?" Fernando asked and straightened up. The place was looking good if he did say so himself. He felt a sense of accomplishment. Maybe he had a future in the building trades.

"David said he had someone perfect," Eden said as he checked his phone.

"David...is getting someone?" Iker asked, not wanting to say what everyone was probably thinking. A glance at Fernando confirmed his suspicion. David was a good driver and fun on a night out, but you were going to trust him to pick your newest partner in crime?

Eden looked up. "I know, and I hear you all, but we open in three hours and Fernando's bringing Bojan here in five. We're desperate."

Iker held his tongue. He'd thought of offering to be the uncle, but then that would mean admitting he looked old enough to be Fernando's uncle.

The back door opened and David walked in followed by an older, balding man who looked exactly like someone's uncle who ran a news agency.

"Hey guys, this is Andres," David said as he introduced Andres around. "He's agreed to be Fernando's uncle."

"Hi," Andres said, looking slightly uncomfortable.

"Thanks for coming on board. Has David brought you up to speed on the plan here?"

"Uhm....he said I need to pretend to run a newsagents and say I was Fernando's uncle?" Andres looked slightly alarmed.

Eden smiled warmly at Andres and said a prayer that this man was not going to give the whole con away. "Come on, let's get a coffee and I'll bring you up to speed."

They left and Fernando looked at David. "Where did you dig him up?"

"What? He's a mate from way back. He needed work."

"I'm not sure he could get work in an actual news agent," Fernando groaned.

"Guys, he's going to be perfect. Fernando is supposed to be asking his uncle to use his shop to run drugs. His uncle shouldn't be thrilled about the prospect. But Andres suggested that he pretend that he's in serious debt trying to get the store up and running so that he really doesn't want to do it, but he's desperate. Which makes his nervousness perfect."

Iker frowned for a moment, but he had to admit, it made sense.

* * * *

"So, Andres, what do you do?" Eden asked as he carried two cafe latte's to a table in a little cafe he'd become partial to around the corner from the shop.

"I used to sell cars, but I wasn't very good at it," Andres admitted. "My bosses suggested that I try to find another line of work."

Eden frowned. There weren't too many legal careers much closer to running cons than selling cars. Especially used ones.

"Look, I know I'm not what you had in mind, but I need the work and I won't let you down," Andres said.

"I'm sure you'll do your best," Eden tried to be placating. The last man you needed on a con was a desperate one.

Andres leaned on. "David and I made a plan," he said and outlined the idea that David had presented to him.

Eden leaned back. Maybe he was exactly what they needed.

"Look, you can trust me," Andres said. "David told me you're going to be taking down some drug dealers and corrupt cops. My cousin was killed by a drug dealer and the police did nothing about it. More or less told my auntie that it was his fault for being involved with these kinds of people in the first place. Like he fucking deserved to be murdered."

Eden smiled. "Welcome on board, Andres."

*

Bojan stepped into the shop with Xavi in tow, thankful that Carles had sent his deputy rather than coming himself. It didn't do Bojan's attempts to be tough any good when Carles was glaring at him like a misbehaving child.

Fernando was at the till, reading a comic book. He glanced up and smiled when he saw Bojan. “Hey.”

“Hey Tornado,” Bojan smiled back.

“Is this place new?” Carles asked, looking around suspiciously.

“Just opened,” Fernando confirmed. “My uncle is in the back.”

“Carles, this is Tornado,” Bojan made the introductions.

Carles nodded as he looked around to see what kind of security the place had.

“We have some fake CC TV cameras on order. We need to start making a profit before we can afford some actual security,” Fernando said. The cameras you can’t see are filming you right now, he didn’t add. The place was probably better wired up thank Buckingham palace. Video was being recorded and sent to his laptop.

"It's a nice shop," Bojan said as he looked around at the sparse inventory and did that Dairy Milk bar say 95 p??

"Thanks. Come on, I'll introduce you to Uncle Andres," Fernando said as he stepped away from the till. There was a bell on the door in case a customer arrived.

In the cramped back room, Andres sat behind a computer, glasses perched on his nose as he peered at a second hand computer Fernando had dug out of his basement for the exact purpose of looking second hand.

"Hey Uncle A, these are the guys I was telling you about. The ones that might want to use our shop to help them do...some business?"

Andres frowned at Fernando, but forced a smile on his face for Carles. "Uh...of course," he stuttered. "I don't think we need to worry..."

"Uncle," Fernando insisted with a look that hopefully conveyed that they were into their eyeballs in debt with getting this place running and yes indeed they needed income.

Andres sighed. "Please, have a seat," he gestured to Carles to take the chair in front of the desk and Fernando and Bojan retreated as the doorbell rang and a young woman stepped in.

She left with a bottle of water and a packet of crisps and Fernando peered to the back room. "Your boss didn't look very happy."

"He's kinda mad I trusted you so quickly," Bojan admitted. "But I've met a lot of creeps online, you know? You learn to know who to trust."

Fernando knew he looked like a good guy with his freckles and easy smile.

And the fact that Bojan appeared to have an almighty crush on him was certainly moving matters along.

After about ten minutes, Carles appeared from the back office. "Tornado, it was nice to meet you. Hope everything goes well here at your shop."

"Uh...thanks," Fernando said with a slight frown at Bojan as he and Carles left the store. 

Bojan shrugged helplessly as he scampered after Carles. They got into Carles's Mercedes and sped away.

Andres emerged. "He didn't even mention drugs or anything. He asked me how I like the neighborhood which I had to admit I don't know every well yet and then he asked about the loans I had on the shop and he said he knew a guy that might be able to help me get a lower rate but I had to deflect that as I don't have any idea what Eden has paying for this and..." Andres started to look panicked.

"You did fine," Fernando assured him though he was worried, too. They'd put all this time and energy into putting together this shop, never mind the cost, and they weren't even going to get a drug dealer take advantage of them?

Someone was going to have to call Eden.


	28. Time to call in the reinforcements

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jose is suspicious. Eden calls in an old friend.

However, when they called Eden, he didn't seem nearly as concerned as they thought he might.

"It's fine," he assured them. "He wants to size you up, probably off talking to Jose to make sure you're not local undercover coppers or something."

They had Eden on Face Time after closing the shop for the evening. Despite Fernando's agreement to take late night shifts, he'd been up working since six and he needed a break. David was going to be in early to open and Fernando would take lates tomorrow. Honest living was a tad bit exhausting.

"What have Cesc and Cesar found?" Fernando wanted to know.

"Not a whole lot. Juan has brought them in on the case looking for me, but as you would suppose, they're hesitant to trust Cesar with much right now."

"We need another angle," Fernando pondered aloud even as Andres fretted quietly.

"Leave it to me," Eden said as he rang off, conveying more confidence to his team that he felt.

Eden was alone in the Barkshire house, in a bit of a self imposed exile since Cesar had reported he was spotted in the Docklands. Pepe had been installed in the flat he'd secured, but even he was having to keep clear of the shop. It was left in the hands on Fernando, David, and Iker, who were great to have on a crew, but he wasn't sure any of them were ready to take the lead on this con even though they were loyal. Throwing someone like Andres into the mix in the face of someone like Carles Puyol, made things even less secure.

Eden had researched Carles. He was a transplant to London after some deals had gone south in Spain. He had a reputation for being ruthless, though he suspected the body count was slightly exaggerated.

People in this line of work had usually killed about half the number of people they were said to have. And from all accounts, even half that number was pretty heavy.

No, he was not someone that his amateur squad needed to be facing alone. He needed to face the fact that it just might be time to call in the heavy reinforcements.

* * * *

-What the hell with your boss?- Fernando messaged Bojan as soon as he caught him online later that evening.

-It's all good- Bojan assured him. -I heard him talking to his deputy, they liked you all and they think the shop is going to work out well, but they didn't want to just walk in and agree to things until Carles has a chance to check around the neighborhood-

-So we're in?- Fernando asked, knowing he sounded impatient. As much as Fernando was impatient to not let Eden and Cesar down as they were trusting him with a lot, he knew Tornado was impatient to get money for the drug to help out his uncle.

-I'm sure of it- Bojan promised. -You gonna be on Fortnite later?-

-Yeah- Fernando agreed, wondering how much stock to put in Bojan's promise. Bojan wanted something too.

-Cool. We should meet for a drink again some time-

-Maybe not a place where everyone knows everything about you?-

-Definitely- 

* * * *

"You spent all day with Cesar?" Jose asked. "Did he take any calls? Send any texts?"

"Nothing," Juan sighed. "His dad just got that new flat in the Docklands and I thought sure it was going to tie into the Hazard sighting but they were miles apart."

"We got eyes on his dad?" Jose asked.

"24-7. So far he's gone for a run, bought a new television at John Lewis and he's headed into central London to meet Cesar for dinner at a fish and chip joint near Holborn."

Jose slammed his fist down on his desk. "There is no way Cesar isn't in touch with Hazard. He has to know where he is!"

"He seems really focused on trying to catch him again. He felts betrayed by how Eden took off and left him and Conte to take the fall for what happened in Windsor."

“I'm just not buying it," Jose said. "Hazard always has an angle. Always."

"Until we know otherwise, I do think it's a good idea to keep Cesar in on this. And Cesc. They do know Hazard better than any of us and as long as we keep an eye on them, they'll be useful," Juan said. He'd known both of them for a long time. He trusted that whatever hold Hazard may have had on them at one point, their life long commitment to queen and country was stronger.

"What else is going on?"

"Well, we do have some eyes in the Docklands that can help us keep an eye on Hazard. If anyone knows what's going on in the area in the less than strictly legal department, it's out old friend."

"Yes," Jose said. "You know. Take Cesar to meet the crew some time this weekend. Let's see if our friends can ferret out something maybe we can't."

* * * *

"Eden, my friend, how long has it been?"

Eden smiled as he reached across the table to shake the hand of his long time friend, Kevin Mirallas who looked, as always, like he was on his way to a very important business meeting.

Eden knew for a fact the man hadn't worked a day in his life since the Sydney deal went down, leaving both of them excessively wealthy.

"You've been in the papers a lot," Kevin commented after the waiter poured them both glasses of a really nice merlot and left them to ponder the menu.

"Life has been...exciting," Eden said as he toasted Kevin and took a drink.

"I miss exciting," Kevin lamented. It wasn't really as much fun as you might thing to be grossly wealthy and not have to work a day in your life. Sure, it was all fun for awhile, but having no purpose, nothing to accomplish wasn't as fulfilling as you might imagine.

Eden had lasted less than six month. He was impressed Kevin was still going at two years.

"One can get a bit too much excitement."

"I have to admit, I was surprised to get your call," Kevin said as he leaned back in his seat, eyeing Eden.

"You know I trust you," Eden said with a slight frown.

"I know you do. And I've never given you reason not to. But you've been accused to betraying your partners in this latest con. You know I don't have time for people I can't trust."

Eden knew Kevin had been betrayed by his own father, a famous Belgian con man in his own right, who'd let Kevin take the fall for a bank job they'd done when Kevin was just 16. Only his age had saved him from a much longer jail sentence.

"I know I didn't betray anyone," Eden said calmly. "I know what the papers have been saying and I know what the brass at MI5 think I did to Cesar, but the don't know the story."

"So tell me the story," Kevin prompted. There was no accusation in his tone. Just interest.

The waiter came by and took their orders and then Eden began the tale of the Wedding. When he got to the part where he did go behind Cesar's back, Kevin was forgiving.

"You love him," Kevin said.

Eden smiled over his second glass of wine. "So much it scares me."

Kevin smiled. "I'll need to meet this Cesar. Find the man who finally stole the heart of our ice cold Mr. Hazard."

"Just because I haven't been married three times," Eden teased lightly.

"Twice," Kevin defended himself. "I never actually married the last one."

Eden shook his head. "We've learned not to trust, you and I."

"I know," Kevin said. "But we've always been able to trust each other. Tell me what you need me to do."


	29. Hello, Indeed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carles is suspicious. Someone makes a mistake.

"I've been hearing some rumors," Xavi said as he entered Carles's office.

Carles looked up with a frown. "From?"

"Our friends in the central office," Xavi said. They didn't mention names as they were constantly aware of the possibility of being listened to, but Juan had stopped by Xavi's flat the night before to let him know what the latest was.

"And?" Carles said, leaning back in his chair and giving his full attention to Xavi as it wasn't often they had direct contact.

"Several things," Xavi said as he closed the door and sat down. "First of all a certain Eden Hazard has been spotted in our territory."

"I thought Eden Hazard just escaped off to parts unknown," Carles said with a frown.

"Something is keeping him in London and they think it's his partner."

Carles nodded. They were both aware of what had gone down in Windsor. When someone was in the area taking down major players in the criminal world, you paid attention. Guti had been well known, one of the best. Carles had met him on more than one occasion.

"So they may be out to take down another player," Carles came to the same conclusion Xavi had.

"One has to wonder," Xavi agreed and watched Carles reach for the bottle of whiskey and pour them both measures.

Carles took a long drink, pushing his shoulder length curly locks away from his face. "You said there were several things."

"Our friends want us to meet up with Mr. Hazard's former partner. He's going to come and visit us some time next week."

"And who, exactly, are we supposed to be? Surely he's not bringing this guy in on our...situation," Carles asked and drained the whiskey and pondered pouring himself another.

"No," Xavi said. "He wants to introduce us as business owners who help him with information on the drugs trade."

They did own the warehouse space that more or less looked like there was business going on here. 

"It sounds like a risk," Carles said.

"I know," Xavi said. "But if Hazard is coming for us, I say better the devil you know."

"I got time on Tuesday," Carles sighed.

"Monday we're going back to the shop and setting up that deal?"

"Yeah," Carles agreed. "Bojan said his buddy Tornado was getting anxious about the situation."

"Have you figured out what that kid's name actually is?"

"No," Carles admitted. "But I looked up his uncle. No record, he's up to his eyeballs in the business loan he's taken out to open that shop. We can use the space for less than we were thinking and he's going to be grateful for whatever we give him."

"You taking point on that way station?"

"I was thinking of putting Bojan in charge of it," Carles threw out casually.

"You want to put Bojan in charge of that?" Xavi clarified.

"I think we make him responsible for it since he brought in Tornado."

"And he takes the fall if this goes south."

"Exactly."

* * * *

Sunday evening, Carles decided to go to dinner at his club. He needed an evening away from the stress that kept coming at him. He was beginning to think there might be something bigger going on here, but he was starting to wonder who he could trust. Other than Xavi, who was actually on his side, not looking for his own angle. He'd even had a moment where he was wondering about Xavi, which was when he realized he needed a night off.

He stepped into the dark, wood paneled space that smelled of smoke and whiskey.

"Good evening, Mr. Puyol," greeted Victor, the tall, dark, and handsome maitre'd, kissing him on the cheek. "We have your table ready for you whenever."

"I think I'll go to the bar, first."

"Of course, sir," Victor said with a smile. "Do let us know if you need anything." He winked.

Carles grinned back. He was feeling better already. He made his way down the corridor into the bar. On one TV they were showing a World Cup match and Carles found a seat where he could watch. A glass of his favorite whiskey appeared.

"Brazil v Switzerland?"

Carles looked up to see a handsome man holding a glass of whiskey. A man he didn't know. He'd not been a member of this club for very long, but he thought he knew everyone.

"I'd say this wasn't going to be much of a match, bur Switzerland could surprise you," Carles said, remember his beloved Spain falling to Switzerland in 2010. Thankfully, it was the last time they lost in that World Cup.

"Agreed," the man said. "Kevin." He offered his hand.

"Carles," he replied and shook it.

"I'm new in town," Kevin said, answering the question in Carles's eyes. "Thinking about becoming a member."

"I can definitely recommend it." Carles gestured to the seat next to him and Kevin sat.

"How long have you been a member?" Kevin asked. They were both watching the game, but sizing each other up.

"A few years," Carles said.

Kevin nodded. "I have been living in Brussels, but there's so much more going on in London. More opportunities."

"I agree," Carles said. This was the kind of club where people could do deals or people could drink their whiskey and enjoy the company. 

Kevin didn't press the conversation. They watched the first half of the match, chatting about the game, about Spain and Belgium's prospects for the Cup, and why people seriously needed to stop talking about Ronaldo and Messi.

"I'm a Barcelona fan, and I get tired of Messi, sometimes."

Kevin laughed. "Agreed. And Neymar needs to pick up his game here," he said as he gestured to the 1-0 scoreline. 

"Teams need to be teams, not players," Carles said. "Germany didn't win in Brazil on stars. Germany won as a team."

"And with Spain in '10. Which is why I think France might take this."

"Exactly," Carles agreed. "I'm about to head to dinner. Would you like to join me?"

"I would, thank you."

* * * *

"You say he's going by the name Tornado?" Jose asked as he gazed at the computer screen. He was leaned back in a buttery soft leather chair in the den of his Belgravia town home, his face betraying nothing.

"Yeah," Bojan said, his face appeared in the corner of Jose's computer screen. In another window, Jose was looking at a CC TV image of Fernando. "To be fair, he's done a really good job covering his tracks. He's an expert, to be sure. But hackers have their tells. When I noticed..."

Jose tuned out of Bojan's computer speak. The brilliant young computer geek had been brought in by Carles to do everyday menial tasks, but Jose has noticed the kid's computer skills early on. Carles had been a bit reluctant to give him much credit, not truly understanding the role an expert who spent more hours in a virtual world than the real one could mean when you were trying to do things under the radar.

"And then I found this."

Another image appeared. It was a picture of Fernando outside Windsor Castle.

"You were looking for a link between anything going on right now in the Docklands and Eden Hazard."

"Yes?"

Another image arose of Eden Hazard standing with Fernando outside the wedding planning business they'd used as a front for the Windsor job.

"Hello Mr. Fernando Torres," Bojan said with relish.

Jose sat back in his hair, a wide smile spreading across his face. "Hello, indeed."


	30. Goodnight, then

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fernando is found out, and Cesar has a plan

Juan walked into the newsagents and saw a familiar freckled face behind the counter. It looked up and nodded at him, no greeting, just an acknowledgement of his existence.

He made his way to the drinks cooler and took several minutes to peruse the selection. He should probably get a water. He needed to be hydrated. 

But he was eyeing the Mountain Dew which he wanted more. No, he had two coffees this morning, he didn't need any more caffeine.

Even as he pondered the choices, he was surveying the place. It was actually very cleverly set up to use as a drug front. The back aisle of the shop had a door to the side. You could be pretending to select which Pot Noodle you wanted for your tea and disappear into the back room to make a deal without being noticed from the street.

If Hazard and his crew set this place up to catch the attention of a drugs dealer, they had certainly done a good job of it.

Juan grabbed the bottle of San Pelligrino and made his way to the check out.

"Afternoon," Juan said as he set his bottle on the counter. He noticed Fernando was looking at the sports page of the Daily Mail. "Did you see that ludicrous display last night?"

Fernando eyed him. "It's June. Arsenal haven't played for a month."

"No, your line is What was Wenger thinking putting Walcott on that early?"

Fernando cracked a smile, getting the joke. "The thing about Arsenal is they always try to walk it in."

Juan paid for his drink. "Have a good day."

Fernando went back to his newspaper and Juan stepped out onto the pavement. Coming up the road where Cesc and Cesar.

Juan had to give them both credit. Neither of them even looked at the shop with interest. Just another newsagent.

"This is a fairly nice area," Cesc commented as he looked across the street a the nail salon and Pizza Express.

"One of the major misconceptions about the drugs trade is that it's a problem of the poor. The real problem is in areas like this. The dealers selling to the middle and upper classes know that crime is a deterrent, and so work to keep the areas they deal in decent like this."

They followed Juan a few streets down and came to a more industrial area. He opened the door to a warehouse called "La Masia Imports".

Cesc glanced at Cesar. Pretty bold of drug runners to front as an import business. But then again, it would explain how they were able to get product into the country. But then again, they were here pretending to talk to informants and not supposed to know that they were actually the drugs dealers. Cesc was having to remind himself which side he was actually on some days.

The warehouse was quiet for a Monday morning. Juan walked across the sparsely filled space to an office at the far end.

"Xavi?"

The door to the office opened and a dark haired man peered out. His face lit up in a wide smile when he saw him. "Hey Juan."

"Xavi, these are the agents I was telling you about. Cesar, Cesc, this is Xavi. He sends information our way about things going on in the area."

Xavi's face clouded. "This is a nice area. I do not want my business to get hurt by these people."

Cesar nodded. "Warehouse is a little sparse."

"We're getting in a big shipment later this week."

"What exactly do you import?" Cesar asked.

"Football gear," Xavi said. "We just finished getting all the World Cup kits into the shop and we're now starting on the new season EPL gear. We get all the major clubs through here and supply to your high street shops."

"Can you get me a discount Chelsea kit?" Cesar asked with a cheeky smile.

"Absolutely," Xavi said. "I think I've got some of the new season kit in the back here. Give me a sec."

Xavi ducked back into his office and Juan smiled at them. "He's a really good guy. Helps us out a lot."

"And can get you gifts for the nephews this holiday," Cesc joked.

Xavi returned with a kit and offered it to Cesar. "Here's hoping your team has a better season than last."

"Amen to that," Cesar smiled as he accepted it. "I'd accuse you of bribing the cops, but you're on our side."

* * * *

"They're on to Fernando," Cesar said as he strode into the house later that evening.

"What?" Eden asked as he stood over the stove, ready to start the chicken for the Marsala.

"Juan stopped in the shop today before he took us to meet Xavi. Completely cased the joint," Cesar said even as he produced his phone and cued up the video Fernando had sent him.

"Shit. How?" Eden asked.

"No idea. I thought most of the crew went under the radar for the Windsor case. Conte knew a few of them, but only in passing. And Conte is sitting on a an Italian beach," Cesar pointed out.

"But it's not like no one else at MI5 knew what was going on," Eden pointed out.

Cesar sighed and Eden turned off the stove, crossing the kitchen to embrace him.

"Okay, it doesn't matter how they know, they know. What are we going to do about this?"

Cesar released him. "If we pull him out we lose our contact with Bojan and the dealers."

"And we let them know we know thew know," Eden added.

"I suppose the bigger question is: do they know about anyone other than Fernando?"

"Meaning?"

"He's there at that shop with Andres who didn't work with us before. Perhaps he's on his own, actually attempting to earn money helping a drugs dealer?" Cesar postulated.

"So Fernando confesses to Bojan that he did once help the MI5 try to take out Eden Hazard, but they left him with nothing and now he's decided to make a living on the other side?"

"I could work," Cesar said. "Perhaps I even mention to Juan that I heard one of my old operatives was in the area and word was he's helping drugs dealers."

"It could get dangerous for Fernando," Eden warned.

"We'll talk it over with him," Cesar agreed. 

Eden began to stroke Cesar's arm. "So, you could have called me about all this."

A smile played on Cesar's lips.

"I could have done."

"But you drove all the way out here," Eden moved in closer.

"It's better to talk these things out- face to face." Cesar said with a nod. "And I needed some dinner. What are we having?"

"I was going to make myself some Chicken Marsala with sauteed haricot vert and I have a chocolate mousse for dessert." Eden started to pepper Cesar's perfect jawline with kisses.

"I was going to pick up a Nandos," Cesar said. "I mean, I should get back. I only made the excuse to Juan that I needed to come out this way to pick up a piece of furniture my dad bought off Craig's List."

"You should probably hurry back," Eden agreed even as his hands slid around Cesar's waist. "We've aroused enough suspicion for today."

"Okay," Cesar said as his eyes fell closed and he leaned into Eden. "You enjoy your dinner."

"You drive safe." Eden nuzzled Cesar's neck.

"Okay."

"Goodnight then."

"Goodnight," Eden echoed as he pulled Cesar toward the bedroom.


	31. People did dumb shit for love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David flys a plane and Fernando works his Freckles.

"You've been at the club a lot lately," Xavi commented as Carles got back late.

"Been watching World Cup matches," Carles said, not meeting his eye as he checked his watch. They were due to make a pick up at the airport in twenty minutes. More than enough time.

"Does he have a name?" Xavi asked, knowingly. Carles was just the type who completely disappeared from the face of the earth when he met someone new.

"There's no one."

"So he's not interested in you? Or you can't read him to tell if he's gay?" Xavi pressed.

Carles looked up with a scowl. "You can be such a dick, Xavi."

Xavi winked. "You have no idea."

Carles made his way to the car. Usually, he'd send Bojan on a small job like this, but Kevin had put him on to a new air service that asked few questions and charged a bit less than the one he'd been using.

He and Kevin had never actually discussed what either of them were importing or exporting, but over whiskey and football, they'd discovered a number of mutual interests.

The arrived at the back entrance of London City Airport, which was dark except for a few street lamps, only a few of which were working, Somehow the city never managed to get over here and get the lights fixed, and they were forever going dim.

Carles let them in the back gate with his key card and drove to the hanger where they were to meet the new pilot.

"Did you get his name?" Xavi asked.

"David," Carles said as they got out of the car and crossed to the door of the hanger. Knocking three times, they waited a few moments for the door to open. A curly head appeared out the door. 

"You here for the delivery?" the man asked with a wide, friendly smile.

"David?"

"At your service," David said. He was going to have to work in the shop until Eden had devised this new plan which meant that not only did David not have to sell sweets to snotty school kids, he also got to fly a plane from Morocco to London twice a week.

Fernando was annoyed. 

"You're here for the crates? Kevin said you'd bring a guy to carry them? They're hella heavy, geezer."

Carles wondered what kind of idiot they employed at this air service, but then again perhaps he was an idiot that didn't ask questions. "I can get it."

"You are pretty buff, dude," David agreed with wide eyes as he directed Carles and Xavi to the crates. David had learned a long time ago that if you acted clueless enough, no one ever expected anything of you, or indeed remembered your existence. It had done him wonders in school. Well, until his history teacher realized he was bunking off lessons to go take joy rides in said teacher's BMW. What kind of teacher can even afford a sweet ride like that?

Carles loaded the car and Xavi handed David an envelope. "Thank you for your help," he said with a smile. 

"No worries. We on again for Friday?"

"I believe so, yes," Xavi said.

"Have a good one," David said as he flicked through the envelope of cash. 

Xavi and Carles got in the car. "He's either the perfect man for the job or we're all going to jail," Xavi commented as they drove out of the airport.

Carles smiled. "You know it's good to switch up who we work with."

"I know it's good to have people I trust. You never did tell me why you decided to switch."

"I got a good tip from a friend."

Xavi declined to comment. Carles wasn't normally the kind of guy to follow his cock around and make bad choices, but even the most level headed people did dumb shit for love sometimes.

Perhaps he'd have to visit the club himself this week and see who'd caught Carles's eye.

* * * *

Fernando arranged to meet Bojan at a gamer's club he knew in the East End. He wanted to get Bojan away from his comfort area, but also a place where Bojan would trust him.

He and Cesar had worked out a story he was going to tell Bojan about his involvement in the Hazard case and explain away his presence at the store since he'd been spotted.

He'd never realized there was this much to running a con. Digital scams were easy enough, but you had to keep it small scale to keep the authorities off your ass. You never scammed good people. The scum that took advantage of pensioners were the kind that he went in to take out. No, he kept most of his crime corporate. Free Nandos and Sky Plus.

But this game was big time and it required face to face cons. He'd spent some time watching Eden in action last time, and realized how completely Eden bought into his character.

Up to this point, he'd mostly been playing himself: Fernando Torres, computer geek and generally awkward person. Now he had to play Fernando Torres, scorned former employee of an international con man who was now working for himself and looking to earn some cash.

"Be yourself," Cesar had advised. "Don't talk too much. Share what you need and shut the hell up."

Fernando logged in at the gaming club and nodded to some people he knew. Everyone here knew him as Tornado, and as far as he knew no one suspected he was in any way involved in international crime fighting. But he'd reserved a private game room and he and Bojan we're going to team up on a Fortnite battle. You could do all of these things online, but Fernando and Cesar had decided that a face to face on this one would serve better to both convince Bojan and read whether or not he'd believed him.

"Hey," Fernando said, standing up to greet Bojan when he arrived.

“How are you?” Bojan asked and was relieved when Fernando immediately settled in to his gaming chair and didn’t ask Bojan about getting the shop in Carles’s business. He knew that Carles’s partners were upset that Fernando had even been mentioned to them with the risk he might still be working for the MI5 with Cesar. He was really hoping he and Fernando could still be friends even if Carles didn’t want to use him.

They played several solid hours of Fortnight, managing two wins for their team.

“Wanna take a break?” Fernando asked as he pulled off his headphones and set his controller to the side.

“Sure. I owe you a drink after that sweet ambush you laid out,” Bojan was grinning, flush with the companionship and gaming.

They left their pod to get drinks from the bar. Fernando ordered up a pint and Bojan went for a Red Bull and vodka.

They carried the drinks back to the room they had reserved for another hour and settled in, watching another game that was progressing somewhere else in the building.

“I have to tell you, working in my uncle’s shop sucks rocks,” Fernando admitted halfway through his drink.

“I thought you didn’t mind it,” Bojan asked as he finished his drink and wished he’d gotten a double.

“It’s not very exciting is it?”

Bojan shrugged. “You used to exciting.”

Fernando ran a finger around the rim of his glass. “I suppose I shouldn’t tell you about this, but…”

Bojan leaned in eagerly. “What?”

“Well,” Fernando hedged a moment longer. “Before I started working with my uncle, I was working undercover for the MI5.”

Bojan’s jaw dropped. He closed it quickly, hoping Fernando thought he was shocked at the admission, rather than shocked that Fernando was sharing what Bojan already knew. “You never!”

“I did!” Fernando insisted. “They were working to take out this international criminal- maybe you heard about it on the news. Guti?”

“Well, fuck, yeah, but you never…”

“I was running the digital aspects of the op. We were working with Eden Hazard, that thief who got away?”

Bojan’s eyes were wide. How much was Fernando going to tell him? “You’ve met that international thief? You know Eden Hazard?”

Fernando chuckled. “Know him? Hardly. I don’t think anyone actually knows him.” His eyes lit up worshipfully. “You should have seen this guy in action, Bo- he was smooth as fuck. Like, he could con people out of anything. I swear he could have talked the queen out of the crown jewels.”

Fernando sighed and deflated. “Well, anyway, the whole thing fell apart when Hazard got away, the MI5 agent we were working with got busted and the whole crew got dumped. Thanks for your help, fuck off.”

Bojan frowned. “So you don’t work for them any more?”

“Do you think I’d be working at my uncle’s shop if I had a gig working for the MI5?” Fernando asked him as he downed the last of his beer.”

Bojan shrugged. 

“No...this is why I wanted to…” Fernando looked around and lowered his voice. “You know, get in on what you’ve got. I want back in the game! I’ve had a taste of that life and it’s so much better.”

Bojan nodded. “I think Carles is going to use you guys. Let me ask again.”

Fernando’s freckles lit up. “Would you? You’re the best.” He laid his hand on Bojan’s thigh and leaned in. “I’d be so grateful.”

Bojan stopped breathing. He’d make this happen if he had to move heaven and earth.


	32. I need three copies of Canine's Monthly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plan is in motion, but will Jose make a mistake?

“Alright. We have everything in place,” Cesar said over the dining table at their headquarters. It had taken all day for them all to arrange to be here so that they wouldn’t be noticed by Jose, Juan, or the agents assigned to follow Cesc and Cesar all the time. They’d managed to give them the slip that evening by hanging out at Cesar’s place and leaving out the basement that the agents didn’t realize opened out into the neighbor’s back garden.

“Carles has agreed to use the shop as his drugs distribution center starting this weekend. Fernando will handle the traffic and is reporting directly the Bojan.”

“Who wants in my pants bad enough to do basically anything I say,” Fernando grinned. 

“You’re so bad. That kid worships you,” David admonished.

“He have a freckle fetish?” Cesc wanted to know. 

“Oi. Focus,” Pepe growled, thought they’d been over this repeatedly. They were going to get video evidence of all the transactions to build the case.

“What I still don’t get is how we get Jose to implicate himself. He’s arrogant it he’s not a fool,” Cesc reminded them. 

“Leave that to me,” Eden said. 

“You have some dastardly plan?”

“Mostly I plan to walk into his office in a couple of weeks, lay down everything we’ve found, let him know that unless he takes early retirement, we will expose everything and he goes to jail for a very long time.”

Cesar raised an eyebrow. “You’re going to walk into Jose’s office.”

“He’ll never see me coming.”

“Uh, yes he’ll see you coming. There’s like 3 billion security cameras in that place,” Cesc said.

“Guys, you’re ruining Eden’s dramatic reveal,” Iker said with mischief in his eyes.

“Maybe we shouldn’t have opened the wine before we discussed the plan,” Pepe sighed as he tipped an empty bottle into the bin.

“We don’t have a team of international criminals, we have a goddamn frat party,” Cesc signed even as he tried to steal the toblerone Eden had brought for Cesar.

* * * * 

“It’s been a month and there’s been no further indication that Hazard is anywhere in London any more," Cesar sighed as he sat down on the edge of Juan's desk.

"He's a sneaky bastard," Juan agreed.

"He probably showed up in a random place in London just so we'd see him and think he was in town and waste weeks trying to find him here when he's been off at some spa in Fiji getting his pores cleansed," Cesar rubbed his temples and sighed. 

As a matter of fact, things were going rather perfectly at the moment. The shop had become a center for Carles's drugs distribution. Clients were popping by at all hours to collect and pay. Bojan had practically been living at the shop running things. Carles had continued to use David to courier his shipments from all over Europe and Northern Africa. They could, quite frankly, take the whole organization out tomorrow if they wanted to.

But they still didn't have enough on Jose to blackmail him.

"Have you talked to Jose about it lately?" Cesar asked Juan.

"He wants us to keep looking for him," Juan said. "He's convinced Eden is working in London at something."

"We've got permanent tails on Fernando and David. They're both working for a drugs dealer in the Docklands," Cesar said. "From all accounts, they've moved on to other projects."

"And neither of them have tried to contact you?" Juan asked.

Cesar shook his head. "I've been avoiding them to be honest. Last thing I need around here is to be associating with drugs dealers, you know?"

Juan smiled. "You used to be Conte's favorite."

"And now Jose thinks I'm dog meat."

"I know how it feels," Juan smiled. "Come on. I need to talk to one of my informants in Wembley. It's not all Eden all day any more."

"Don't I know it," Cesar said with a heartfelt sigh. Other than texts on regularly rotating disposable phones, Cesar hadn't seen anything of Eden since their last meeting with the team. He missed him desperately.

* * * *

The doorbell chimed and Fernando looked up from his graphic novel. He hoped his face didn't register the surprise he felt when he saw Cesar's boss, Jose, walk in.

Fernando gave him a nod and went back to his novel. 

Jose approached the counter. "Have you got the latest issue of Canine's Monthly?"

Fernando's head shot up. It was the code they used to identify people who were looking for more than a copy of the Guardian and a Crunchie. "Uh, yeah, in the back."

"Thank you," Jose said and strode to the back of the store, Fernando peering over his novel. He didn't dare pick up his phone to alert Cesar and Eden until Jose disappeared into the store room. What the hell was he doing here?

Jose knocked on the door three times, and there was a sound of shuffling and then the door opened.

Bojan peered out, eyes wide. "Yes?"

"I need three copies of Canine's Monthly."

"Three?" Bojan asked. Three grams was a lot.

"Yes," Jose said and Bojan pulled the door open wider to let him in.

Jose stepped into the small space, his presence overcrowding Bojan amongst the boxes of sweets and stacks of drinks. Once the door was securely closed, Jose spoke.

“Bojan, I need you to do me a favor.”

“Uh, sure,” Bojan said as he fidgeted. He knew who Jose was. He was the MI5 agent that Carles paid off to let them operate without being hassled. But he always dealt with Xavi and Carles. Bojan only knew him to see him from the back of conversation. “Did you uh...need the three….?”

“I don’t need drugs,” Jose said placatingly. “I need someone to make a run up to Manchester for me to pick up some things.”

“Oh,” Bojan said. “Well, uh...Carles…”

“This is something Carles doesn’t need to know about,” Jose said with a charming smile. “This is between you and me.” Jose pulled out a stack of bills, a key, and a folded piece of paper. “Here is 5 thousand and information on where to make the pick up. Here is the key to a car I’ve left around the corner for you. There’s another 10 in this if you successfully complete the pick up.”

If it was possible, Bojan’s eyes got wider. “What is it?”

“You don’t need to know,” Jose said. “And neither does anyone else...understand?”

“You want me to leave, now?”

“Yes,” Jose said.

“But I’m supposed to be here a couple more hours, and Carles will want to know why I don’t check in later.”

“Tell him your mum is ill.”

“My mum lives in Stoke.”

“Exactly. Tell him you’re headed to Stoke to see her.”

“Oh...right.”

Jose smiled. “I knew I could count on you to do this for me, Bojan.”

“Sure.”


	33. It's not my car!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bojan is in a boatload trouble.

Bojan made his way up the M40 towards Manchester. Carles hadn't made a fuss when he'd made up this lame lie about his mum. And then he'd had to call his mum to talk to her because he'd not talked to her in weeks and he felt bad about saying she was ill, when the woman was barely in her 50s and would probably outlive him.

He was humming along to his favorite playlist, when his phone rang. Without thinking, he pressed the button on the steering wheel to answer.

"Hullo?"

"BO! Where are you?"

"I uh...," Bojan stuttered. He never could lie.

"I thought we were on for Fortnite later!" Fernando said.

Bojan relaxed when he realized it was Tornado and not Carles or Xavi. "Oh, that's right. Sorry. I have to run this errand."

"But you'll be back later? Where are you headed anyway?"

"Manchester," Bojan said with a sigh. "I've got to drop this right off, so it'll be seriously late."

"Bummer. What the hell's in Manchester, anyway? I thought you did all your business here in London?"

"No idea," Bojan said. "They said a warehouse near Stretford so here I go. They don't pay me to think."

* * * *

"They clearly don't pay him to think," Cesar muttered after getting off the phone with Fernando. "I got a break," he said to Juan and jumped out of his chair, grabbing his sport coat and pocketing his phone.

"A lead?" Juan looked up. "On what?"

"Bojan is making a pick up near Stretford. If we can find him and get whatever he's transporting, we can make a break here."

"We need to talk to Jose," Juan said, alarm in his voice.

"Juan! We don't have time. Jose is out of this office the rest of the afternoon. How are we supposed to work if we have to check in every five seconds?"

Juan still didn't get up. 

Cesar sighed, though he knew exactly why Juan was reluctant. Jose had sent Bojan on the errand as Fernando had also reported, and the last thing Jose wanted was his errand boy stopped mid transit. "Look, you talk to Jose, I'll take Cesc and we'll head for Manchester. If Jose doesn't want us to follow up, then you can call me?"

"Right," Juan reluctantly agreed.

Cesar went to get Cesc, calling for a car on the way.

Juan picked up his phone to call Jose.

* * * *

“So, this is your friend Jose you’ve told me so much about.”

“Jose, this is Kevin,” Carles introduced the pair at the club that afternoon where they were meeting for drinks and to catch a pre-season friendly. Barcelona was playing in America in some made up tournament and it was a late kick off. 

“Nice to meet you, Jose. Carles tells me you’re a good man to know in London.”

Jose smiled and took in the attractive Belgian. He wondered how friendly Carles and Kevin were. 

“I have a few connections,” he demurred. 

“Shall we get a table for dinner?” Carles asked and Jose didn’t notice when Kevin slid his phone out of his pocket and deftly slid it into a pot plant in the bar before following them toward the dining room. 

*

“What do you suppose Bojan is transporting?” Cesc wondered as Cesar raced up the M40. 

“Well, it’s something Jose wants delivered personally and tonight.”

“He must not be too worried that we were able to lure him to the club and apparently away from his phone,” Cesc mentioned. They’d had like five texts from Juan admitting he hadn’t heard from Jose but to proceed discreetly. 

Cesar’s phone rang. “Bojan has left Stretford,” Fernando, who was tracking Bojan’s phone by GPS, reported. 

“Where would be a good place to cut him off?” Cesar asked as he maneuvered around a slow lorry. 

Fernando relayed the exit numbers and Cesc made note. 

An hour later, Cesar was tailing Bojan, waiting for him to make a stop so they could confront him and search the vehicle. 

"Doesn't Bojan ever have to pee?" Cesc grumbled, "I haven't been to the loo since we left London and I'm fit to burst."

Cesar laughed. "The less glamorous side of the MI5- inadequate bathroom breaks."

A few miles up the road, Bojan must have decided it was time for a potty break as he pulled off at a service area.

"Shall I ask him to wait for us a few minutes while you have a wee?"

Cesc was calling in the stop as Cesar trailed after Bojan into the car park, and gave Cesar the finger.

Cesar was hoping Bojan was not about to squeeze into that space by the door and was relived when he drove to the back of the lot and took an empty place with no cars around it. Perhaps he didn't want anyone looking too closely at his car while he had a break. Cesar pulled in behind Bojan, cutting off any possible means of escape.

"Is he armed?" Cesc asked as he and Cesar got out of the car.

"We have no reason to think so, but Jose might have left a weapon for him in the car," Cesar replied.

They approached the car on opposite sides, Cesc on the passenger, looking over the back seat, and Cesar on the driver's, watching Bojan's every move. Neither of them carried weapons, but they had one issued in the boot of the car.

With his warrant card in his hand, Cesar stepped up to the door. Bojan's hands were clenched on the wheel, no weapon in sight. Cesar knocked on the window. "Bojan Krkic?"

"Uh, yeah," Bojan said. His eyes were huge and scared. The real question was: who was Bojan scared of? Was he worried that he was about to get busted and taken off to jail or was he worried about what Jose and Carles might do to him when they found out. The two scenarios could vastly vary in terms of how best to proceed.

Cesc was surveying the car and all he could see was Bojan's phone on the seat along with an empty packet of hula hoops and a bottle of Coke. He nodded to Cesar. Bojan was unarmed.

"Mr. Krkic, we have reason to believe you are carrying illegal goods. Do you consent to have your vehicle searched?"

"Uh...it's not my car...I was just...driving it for a friend."

He was scared of being arrested then. He was not ready to take the fall for Jose and that was telling.

Cesar's brow furrowed. "You don't know what's in the trunk of your car?"

"Uh...yeah, no...it's not my car," Bojan repeated, his grip getting tighter on the wheel. "What happens if I don't let you search it?"

"We all stand here until we can wake up a judge in Birmingham to issue us a search warrant," Cesar said as though he had all night to do just that.

"Oh," Bojan said, his eyes darting around. After a few long moments, his shoulders slumped. "You can search it."

"Can you please step out of the vehicle?" Cesar requested, and he stepped back, glancing at Cesc who had his eyes on every move Bojan made. The kid was a geeky gamer who ran drugs to make money so that he could continue to play games all night and not have to get a real job. He was not a thug out to make a point against the police. However, scared people did stupid things.

Bojan emerged from the car, keeping his hands raised above his head. Cesar was pleased to see that Bojan watched entirely too many American television dramas and was able to get him in cuffs before Bojan realized it was happening. He didn't, however, put up much of a struggle as Cesar pushed him toward the back seat of their car.

"He either really doesn't know what he's carrying or it's not anything too bad," Cesc surmised as he handed Cesar a pair of disposable gloves and took the key out of the ignition. 

"It's not my car!" Bojan called again, his voice reaching an octave it hadn't since primary school.

"Well, he's a little worried," Cesar said as Cesc handed him the keys and he opened the trunk.

"Well fuck me..."


	34. Plain or chocolate biccys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bojan is busted

Carles's phone rang. He glanced at it, seeing it was Xavi, and was tempted not answer. He was in the back of a hired car with Kevin, on his way back to his flat. The last thing he needed right now was to deal with some "crisis" Xavi had created that could completely be dealt with in the morning. Someone had probably forgotten to water the plants.

"Someone important?" Kevin asked.

"My business partner."

"I'm not keeping you from an important deal, am I?"

"No," Carles smiled and leaned over, but then his phone buzzed again.

Xavi.

"You better get that," Kevin teased as he leaned back, and, reluctantly, Carles answered the phone.

"Yes?"

"Bojan's been arrested."

"What?" Carles barked, startling Kevin and the driver. "Doing what? The little fuck told me he was going to visit his mother in Stoke?"

"He's in custody at the MI5 headquarters. Juan called."

"Juan? What the fuck? How did this happen?"

"Apparently he tried to call Jose and get him to call off the dogs, but Jose didn't answer his phone."

Carles tried to think. Had he seen Jose with his phone at all that evening?

Kevin was looking concerned, and Carles didn't want him to know more than he needed to. Carles leaned forward. "We're going to need to take Mr. Mirallas home."

"What is it?" Kevin asked.

"An issue with an employee. I'm sorry. Can we take rain check?"

"Of course."

* * *

Bojan sat slumped in the chair, his fingers all but twitching as his phone had been taken. Even in his anxious state, he couldn't deal with not being distracted.

"Six kilos of cocaine and a small armory," Juan said, shaking his head in disbelief. "And he claims to not have known what was in there?"

Cesar nodded. They were looking at Bojan through the two way mirror. "He says that he was just told to go make a pick up in Manchester and someone else put the things in the trunk while he was in another area of the warehouse."

"We can put him away for a very long time on what we've found," Juan postulated. He'd still been unable to get a hold of Jose and he was starting to freak out. 

Cesar shook his head. "We don't want this kid. He's a mule at best. He can lead us to much, much bigger fish."

Juan wanted to argue this, but he didn't have a leg to stand on. The only person who had the authority to make this go away still wasn't answering his fucking phone.

"Let's send in Cesc to talk to him," Cesar advised. "People trust Cesc."

On cue, the door opened and Cesc popped his head in. "He's wiggling like he needs a wee."

Cesar rolled his eyes. "Get the guards to take him to the bathroom, and then let's bring him some tea and biscuits and remind him that he's going to go away for a long time if he doesn't give us some names."

"Plain or chocolate biccys?"

Cesar chuckled. "Your choice."

* * *

Bojan looked up to see the younger agent who'd arrested him come in to the room carrying a mug of tea and a plate of chocolate hob nobs. He tried not to be overly grateful, assuming they wanted something from him, but it was late and he was hungry.

"Hope these are alright. I told them you probably could use a Mars bar, but the budget only stretches to biscuits."

Bojan gave him a small smile and reached for the biscuits. Cesc didn't say anything as Bojan wolfed down the three biscuits and reached for the tea.

Sipping the sugary, milky tea, Bojan peered over the mug at Cesc. "It's still not my car."

"Bojan. They don't need anything from you, not really. They can put you away for the rest of your life just on the fact that you were driving that car. I don't care if you honestly thought the trunk was full of toys for orphans, you were driving it, you've already admitted that you were aware that something was being put in the trunk for you to transport. No solicitor you can hire is going to get you off."

Bojan slunk down in the chair. They'd let him have a phone call and he'd called Xavi. Xavi told him to shut his mouth and they'd be there to sort him out.

But that was what Xavi wanted. They wanted him to shut his mouth and take the fall.

And where was Jose? Weren't these guys with him? Why wasn't he taking care of this?

The door opened and an agent he didn't know stuck his head in with a fresh plate of biscuits. Cesc smiled and took them, setting them in front of Bojan.

Bojan continued to drink his tea even though he'd really like another biscuit.

"So. What happens if I do decide to talk?" Bojan asked as he peered at Cesc over the lip of the mug.

"We get you a solicitor. You give us names, locations, everything you know. The more you tell, the easier we can let you off."

"These people will come after me when they find out I rolled over on them."

"We can protect you."

"What if your department is who I need protecting from?"

Cesc sat back. "Are you telling me that one of our own agents is in on this?"

"I'm not telling you anything until you get me that solicitor."


	35. My name is Mr. Jason Seaver; I'll be serving as your solicitor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bojan talks. Jose frets.

"He's asked for a solicitor."

"Why?" Jose raged down the down at Juan. He was at his flat, Juan finally having reached him there, realizing that he must have left his mobile phone at the club. 

"Cesar and Cesc have convinced him that if he tells everything he knows, he might get off."

"Do Cesar and Cesc have any idea who he works for?"

"They know he works with Carles and Xavi," Juan said, though the fact that they'd done this without the knowledge of Jose made him suspect that they suspected.

"But what is Bojan planning to tell them?"

"I don't know. Cesar and Cesc are the only ones who've talked to him, and even if I do talk to him someone's going to be listening."

Jose hung up the phone and dragged on his jacket. He left Juan in charge. How had he been so stupid as to trust him. How could anyone be this incompetent.

Of course, Jose didn't seem terribly concerned by the fact that Juan had tried to call him almost constantly that evening. That Jose hadn't given Juan the authority to call of Cesar in the case of something like this.

Or even stop to wonder how he'd managed to lose his phone over five hours ago and never notice it was gone.

* * * *

Bojan was asleep with his head on the table when his solicitor arrived.

"Mr. Krkic?" He shook Bojan on the shoulder and the bleary eyed man looked up at him.

"What?"

"My name is Mr. Jason Seaver; I'll be serving as your solicitor."

The man had salt and pepper hair and wore glasses, but something about the way he moved was more youthful than his appearance.

"Oh," Bojan rubbed his eyes and took the offered hand. 

"Mr Krkic, you've been caught red-handed with weapons and drugs. You're going to go away for a very long time."

The solicitor had piercing blue eyes.

"I...uh...they said if I talked, gave them names, I could maybe get off lighter."

"Good," Mr. Seaver said with a nod of his head. He was looking over the paperwork. "You're smart enough to realize that loyalty is out the door at this point. My guess is the people you work for are doing haven't done much to help you out, so forget about showing them loyalty."

Bojan nodded. He felt a twinge of guilt. Xavi had been good to him. And Carles. Maybe he could leave them out of it. In truth, Jose was the only one who'd been involved in this. He'd told Bojan to make the pick up and even lie to Carles about where he was going. Yes. Jose was the only one he needed to grass on.

Mr. Seaver pressed play on the voice recorder. "Alright, start from the top."

* * * *

"I can't believe he's doing this," Cesc muttered to Cesar as he watched the closed door.

"Shh," Cesar said as he looked up to see Jose storming down the hallway.

"Who authorized this take down?"

"Authorized?" Cesar asked with a well practiced puzzled look. Eden had told him to try to calculate the square root of 3456 when he was trying to act confused. Eden was a good liar.

"Yes!" Jose was now glaring at Cesc who generally had a vague look like he wasn't entirely sure what was going on.

"Sir, we had a solid lead that this man was carrying illegal goods. A lead that turned out to be correct," Cesar handed him a sheet. "This is what we found in his car."

Jose took the paper and examined it.

Cesar wondered if Jose knew the trick about square roots because he certainly didn't look like he knew anything about what was on it.

"Have you questioned him?"

"He's asked for a solicitor. One is in with him now," Cesar reported. "A Mr. Seaver."

"Who did he call?" Jose snapped.

"The call he placed was to a Mr. Xavi Hernandez in East London, sir," Cesc reported.

Jose's shoulders released. "Ah. So his friend sent a solicitor?"

"That's what I'm assuming," Cesar said. And well he could assume that as no solicitor had been requested by the department. As far as anyone knew the man had been sent by Bojan's friend. At least on paper they could assume this.

"Let me know when he's ready to talk," Jose said as he strode away.

Cesc glanced at Cesar. "You think he's gonna rat out Jose with Jose glaring at him?" he muttered under his breath.

"I think we're going to make sure that Bojan has no idea Jose is even in the building when he starts talking."

* * * *

Carles sat at his desk, smoking a cigar and sipping a glass of Jameson. What even in the hell had Jose been playing at tonight? Sending Bojan off to run an errand to pick up god knew what in Manchester? Bojan was a generally reliable kid. Someone you knew wouldn't steer you wrong on a small shipment across the neighborhood. Deliveries and collections from clients.

But Manchester? And without telling Carles or Xavi? What was he hiding?

Carles had called Jose repeated even though Xavi had said he was unreachable.

He drained his glass and picked up his phone again, this time dialing Jose's office.

"Hello?"

"It seems we have a situation."

"I have it under control," Jose snapped.

"You do? That's not what Xavi tells me."

"I mislaid my phone," Jose said. "If you hadn't distracted me at the club..."

"Perhaps if you'd let me know there was a reason we needed to stay in touch tonight," Carles said in a low voice.

There was a pause. "I thought it was an easy pick up. There was no reason to suspect that anyone knew Bojan was going anywhere."

"You dragged him away from his job for me. Bojan is not your to command."

"I think you forget who makes your job possible."

"I think you forget who is earning the money here."

There was another long pause.

"He's asked for a solicitor. I assume Xavi sent him one?"

Carles frowned. "He said nothing to Xavi about that."

"If Xavi didn't send him, who did?"

* * * *

"My client is demanding full witness protection services for his testimony against several high powered men in the drugs trade."

Cesar looked across the desk at Eden...er...Jason Seaver. "This isn't an American cop show, you do realize."

Eden lowered his glasses and gazed at Cesar. "Trust me. When you hear what he has to say, you're going to call the queen and ask is she can put him up at the palace."

Bojan squirmed. Was he doing this? Was he really doing this?

Eden laid a hand on his arm. "This is the right thing."


	36. The name is Fabregas.  Cesc Fabregas.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jose is toast. Who's next?

"Well, Mr. Azpilicueta," said Conte as he set two glassed down on his old desk. "It appears I have a lot to thank you for."

"Me?" Cesar said with a smile. "I'm going to give most of the credit for this one to Eden."

"You mean Solicitor Seaver? I'm not sure that was legal." Conte poured the drinks.

"I'm sure it wasn't, but we got Bojan protection and Jose is in jail," Cesar said. "And I thought the point of bring Eden in was so we didn't always have to do things the legal way."

"And the people up top have realized the value of this approach," Conte said as he handed Cesar a glass. "Here's to Eden, wherever he wandered off to."

"To Eden," Cesar said with a smile. He knew exactly where Eden was, and as soon as he finished up the paperwork, he'd be joining him.

Jose was in jail and not talking, but Bojan had given them pretty much everything they needed. They were still trying to track down Xavi and Carles who seemed to have disappeared from London, but even without them, Jose was never going to see daylight as a free man again.

"What does your team have in mind, next?"

"Well, the newsagent is profitable, so we decided to leave it open for now. Andres? The manager we hired in to pretend to be Fernando's uncle? We signed the lease into his name and he's going to run it on his own."

"And we have a very loyal contact in the Docklands who can keep an ear to the ground and see if Carles or Xavi turn up."

"Exactly."

"Well, think big, because we've convinced the powers that be that this is a worthwhile project."

Cesar swirled the whiskey in his glass. "What's going to happen to Juan?"

"He's completely cooperating," Conte told him. "We'll probably not be able to save his career, but we can probably keep him out of jail."

Cesar nodded. "He's a good guy."

"He is, and it's a shame he got caught up with Jose. I'm sure it was a case of getting in over his head before he realized it was too late to turn back."

"He did make a profit," Cesar commented, having seen Juan's car.

"We all make bad choices some times."

There was a knock at the door. Cesc appeared. "Excuse me, Mr. Conte, sir. We've got a plane to Monte Carlo to catch."

"Monaco?" Conte frowned. "Why are you going to Monaco?"

"We'll let you know when we get there."

*

"So do we own this plane?" Cesc asked as he leaned over David's shoulder to check out the controls.

"Nah. It's Eden's friend's. That bloke Kevin."

"And he just lets you fly it?" Cesc asked in wonder.

"He tried to hire me," David said with a wink. "I told him I'd hate to be tied down like that."

Cesc moved to the back of the luxury private jet and took a seat next to Iker. "We're going to Monaco."

"My wife stopped asking where I was going when she saw the bank balance. Now she packs me a lunch and tells me to remember to Face Time the kids." Iker had a packed lunch in a brown paper bag and a bottle of Coke.

"What did she pack?" Cesc peered over and Iker fished out a packet of Hob Nobs. Cesc happily took one.

Cesar and Eden climbed onto the plane. "We ready?"

"Fernando's running late," David called back. 

"If he's finishing an online game, I'm going to be cross," Cesar said with a frown.

"I think he was visiting Bojan," Iker said quietly.

Cesar sighed. "They really got to be friends, didn't they?"

"We're going to get Bojan relocated somewhere nice when this is done," Eden promised. "His mum too, if he wants. A lovely flat in Sydney or Los Angeles."

Cesar smiled. "The Hazard Protection Plan is a good one."

"Hey, we're here to take out the bad guys, not punish the good ones."

Fernando came scampering up the stairs. "Sorry. Had to wait ages for the train."

"Why won't you just use my car service?" Eden asked with a weary sigh.

"Because I feel like a knob in the back of a chauffeured car?" Fernando replied with perhaps a bit too much honesty.

Eden frowned and Cesar handed him a glass of champagne. "Come on. We're headed off to our next adventure."

"Monaco," Cesc said. "I'm imagining walking into a casino in an Armani tuxedo, adjusting my cuff links." Cesc mimed his fantasy. "The name is Fabregas. Cesc Fabregas."

"Speaking of knobs," Fernando said with an eyeroll as he went to help David close the door to the plane. Then he joined David at the helm. Fernando was not a qualified pilot, but planes were so much technology these days that a geek like him was able to quickly absorb the workings of the controls and helped David as a co pilot even if he couldn't actually land or take off.

Cesar surveyed their little crew. Each of these men had proven trustworthy over the last six months and he knew they believed in the mission. Cesc and Iker were playing Parchís on Cesc's iPad while making their way through Iker's lunch bag. Fernando and David were discussing the latest model of Ferrari. And Eden was sitting back, sipping his champagne, smiling at him.

"What?"

"Nothing."

The plane only sat 6 besides the pilots, so there wasn't any room for privacy even though Cesc and Iker were busy bickering over their game.

Cesar moved to the seat next to Eden and leaned in. "So, what do you have planned in Monaco?"

"I was talking to Kevin and he was telling me that there were some human traffickers working on the coast of Italy and France, picking people out of the incoming migrants."

Cesar frowned. "Seriously?"

"Yeah," Eden said. "They're laundering money through the casinos and shipping the people all over Europe."

"So, just our brand of scumbags."

Eden smiled at Cesar. "You're getting to enjoy this way, way too much for a straight laced government man."

"You're a bad influence," Cesar muttered as he moved in for a kiss.

Cesc looked up from his game. "If clothes start coming off I'm having David through them out over France."

Iker peered over his shoulder. "You might want to get the parachutes ready."


End file.
